Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Legwork

No animal has been armed
during the production of this flash fiction
(source)
I've heard that I get carried away, sometimes.
What can I say? I got dragged-in.
Well.
I could say: "I don't particularly like it when my woman gets abducted by third grade thugs to be used as snuff material."
I could say: "If you're dumb enough to forget turning off her phone, I can track her GPS".
I could say a lot of things, really. But in this case I'd rather shut up and listen. That's not really me, I know. But I'm in front of their door right now, and the safety is off. Not a gun. A hand grenade. My brother brought some weird souvenirs back from Syria.

My girl? She's safe in the car. With snacks and water. Not that I'm thoughtful or anything, I keep them in my car anyway. Damn, when I'm done with this she's gonna cost me a fortune in therapy.

See, my girl gets in all sorts of trouble, what with her being really pretty and having a mouth twice as big as mine. But this time these lower life forms, these unwashed ethanol sacks, they've pushed it too far.
They really made it easy for me though. All I had to do was gear up and follow the directions. Didn't even have to look, I love talking gadgets. "In 4 miles, turn right", "In 1 mile, turn the place upside down and set it on fire".

I ended up in the middle of nowhere, in the parking lot of a motel so badly kept it looked about to collapse. I thought they would keep her in their bathroom or something. I realized they went a step further when I saw two rooms lit up, and only one other car in the lot. Later she told me they'd been waiting for someone to pick her up. They'd put her in the adjacent room to "keep the meat fresh", she heard one of them say. They hadn't met the tenderizer yet. 

From the car, I went directly to the front desk.
I'd though it'd take a while to get what I wanted; Sometimes you have to be patient to get things out of people. Not that time. The dude behind the counter was over a massive bong, higher than the space shuttle. "I'm here for the blonde my friends brought in, they have the keys, I need the spare". The pothead fumbled his hand into a drawer and presented them. Just like that. Dear President, please legalize weed.

I found her tied up, soaked in cold sweat, terrified. Someone was going to need prosthetic fingers to pick their broken teeth. I untied her, hugged her, and told her to keep the story for later, go to the car and get ready to start the engine.

Communicating room are fun. When the door is not locked, it opens up a world of possibilities. So here I am. Gauging. Eavesdropping.
They're as drunk as a bad marriage.
They're slamming something on a table. Cards. I'm surprised they are clever enough to remember the rules. And, sweet mother, they are loud.

"Yeah, just like my coffee, cold as death and stiff as a corpse, that's how I like them!"
That voice… at least 10 years of cheap booze and tobacco.
He sounds like he's about to throw up gravel.
"Yeah, spit it out, Teddy, you just like them dead!"
His partner doesn't sound much better. There's something more to it though. Smug.
"I don't like them dead! I like them… Submissive!".
Submissive. Three syllables, bravo, Teddy.
A third voice cracks a laugh that reminds me of an angry chimp.
Then he starts talking. He's pitched so high he could be a choir boy. And after the mass, he'd probably sell weed in the confession booth.

"If you want submissive, you've got to get yourself an amputee. Look, look, I got myself that one legged chick once. And she tells me 'be gentle, be gentle'. So I answer 'Or else what, you're gonna run away?'"
Another round of laughter. I've heard noises like that once. At an animal shelter.
"Yeah that's a good one. But when it comes to counting legs, Teddy's the winner. Right Ted?" That's Smug talking.
- "Shut up Marvin, I told you to forget that story! I was drunk okay?"
- "What'd he do, come on Marv!" The chimp gets all excited
- "He tried to fuck a golden retriever. Four legs at once."
Chimp gets hysterical. Calm down, don't choke now. I have plans for you.
Marvin's not done yet.
- "But now I think of it, his brother wins."
- "You can't beat four legs Marv" Chimp is half choking.
Then I hear a thump. That's Teddy getting up and his chair falling on the floor. They're getting busy, at last.

They don't hear me lowering the door handle. They don't see me pushing the door ajar.

They don't see the grenade slowly roll to the middle of the room. I don't see it either,  I've got five seconds before the rooms turns into splinters.

I never though I could make it to the car that fast. My girl start's the engine as soon as she sees me rushing out. I get in and just as I shut the door, like a bad movie cliche, the frag goes off.
As we leave the parking lot, I catch myself thinking. "Chimp, Marv, Teddy… that's six legs.
I win".

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Creative Commons License
Legwork by Danny Hefer is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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