Six Bad Things by Charlie Huston

Author:Charlie Huston
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780345484369
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2005-07-04T16:00:00+00:00

CANDITO HAD the wanted poster in his pocket. Rolf found it when he was looking for the Bronco keys so he could meet me and Leo back at the highway. But he had to kill Candito first.

—Dude, was that nasty. I was thinking bushwhack: get back in the tequilaria and hide behind the bar and blast him when he came back in. No go. You took off and I went in and he was just coming in through the back door with the town medico. Old guy, fat, with a big old mostacho. The real deal, right out of a Sergio Leone flick. I come through the door and the Federale goes for his gun and I raise my hands and start babbling about how I dropped the car keys and I just need to get them and I’ll be gone and, dude, just be cool. He tells the doc to get to work on the other cop, the one without a face, right?

I’m sitting on the side of the bed now, drinking more water. My head feels like it’s been cut off and stuck on a pike. I keep having little moments where I suddenly get dizzy and my vision blurs. It’s a safe bet that I have a mid-level concussion. Which would explain why I don’t remember much after I got in the Monte Carlo. A chase. A crash. A cop. The back of Rolf’s bus. This room.

—The Federale covers me while I walk over to that table I was hiding behind. I point at the floor and go all, Hey, there’s my keys, and I duck down like I’m grabbing my keys just as the doc walks around the bar and sees the dead cop.

Dead cop. A deputy was calling for help on his radio, and then I heard gunshots, and then Rolf and Sid were pulling me out of my car. Dead cop.

—So now the doc is telling the Federale that he can’t do anything for his friend and the Federale is all, Que? Que? Que? So that’s it, the jig’s up. I pop up to do one of those gangsta moves with the dead cop’s piece in one hand and my revolver in the other and, dude, there’s the doc and the Federale standing over the dead guy, I’m totally forgotten. I pull the trigger on that cheap cop gun and it goes off and jams right away. So now, dude, the live cop is drawing a bead on me and I got just three round in my piece and the one shot I got off hit the doc in the gut and he’s lying on his side on the floor scooting around in a circle like one of the Three Stooges with a hot rivet in his pants. No shit.

My head spins some more and I lie back with my knees bent over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor.

—You OK, dude?

I keep my eyes closed and wave my hand.

—You sure?

I breathe deeply a few times.

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