The Reluctant Hunter by Joel Levinson

Author:Joel Levinson [Levinson, Joel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781475938999
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2012-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

AS HE REHEARSED WHAT HE’D SAY at what he assumed would be the final roadblock of his trip and what had been the first roadblock after leaving Bihac—even laughing aloud at his own jokes—two men plunged out of the woods with rifles leveled at his windshield, stockings covering their faces. Dado hit the brakes. They carried additional rifles over their shoulders and several pistols stuck in their belts. As they scuttled into the middle of the road, Dado found the scene almost comical. Their cartridge belts added so much weight to their momentum they had to bend their knees and almost crawl to slow down. The men came to a stop on the other side of the road, needing to double back awkwardly into the path of his vehicle.

“What the fuck are you doing?” demanded one of the soldiers.

Dado could not get his brain or his mouth to respond.

“I said what the fuck are you doing?”

“Driving yeast.”

“Answer my question, wise guy.”

“I did. Honest. I was fetching yeast for a bakery.” He knew this was not a moment to joke.

“Kill him,” the other soldier sputtered through his stocking, snot from a cold mucking the area around his mouth.

“Wait. Please wait. Read this first. The others did—the other soldiers read it—and let me go. I’m on a mission—a deal. Truly, it’s what you might call wholesomely legitimate.”

“It’s what?” The men looked at each other, brows furrowed. Dado turned to fetch the pass. His heart sank when he did not see it on the seat next to him where he had placed it under his top hat. He picked up the hat, saw nothing then peered into the hat’s interior.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled to himself. As he pulled down the visor, he heard a rifle cocked. “Shit,” he said louder. “I know it’s here somewhere. Please give me another second. Please.” Then he remembered he had stuffed it behind the other visor for fear of it blowing out the window again.

The soldier read the pass and spit on Dado’s truck. “This is bullshit. You’re dead you crazy fucker.”

“It’s real, believe me. I’m returning from Banja Luka. I got a loaf of bread. Maybe you guys are hungry—honest, that’s all I’ve got to give you.”

“Bread! We need money, fuckhead!”

“I don’t have a single deutschemark on me. Really. I haven’t had money for more than a month.”

“Well, whoever you are, you’re about to see your brains fly right the hell out your ears. Get out of the truck and kiss my boot.”

“Please wait. Listen. Will you let me go if I give you a bag of yeast?”

“A bag of yeast? You’re fucking nuts! What are we supposed to do, bake a pie?” The soldier tried to scratch his face through the stocking. Frustrated, he bellowed, “I got to kill this crazy fucker, right now!”

“Think about it for a minute,” Dado said. “Yeast is like gold these days. Take a bag and let me go. I’m not fighting anybody. You can read right in that paper that your guys needed flour and my guys needed yeast.

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