Installment #27
Chapters 50 & 51
50
“I told you Vern couldn’t kill him,” Diane said.
“So much for my honor, I guess,” Geri said, laughing. “You insult me, brave knight Vern.”
“Oh, I got him, Geri,” Vern said. “Caught him with our money. I was just about—”
“—Vern can you please turn off the fucking sprinklers,” Geri said. “It’s messing up my hair.”
“Control box is back in the office.
“Well, what can you do for me then? He’s still alive—unless he’s drowned already. Hell, he’s still got the money even. And you can’t turn off the sprinklers. Diane, shoot him.”
“Who?” Diane said.
Walt flinched as Diane put her gun on him, then back to Vern, to him, to Vern again and again as they waited for Geri to answer.
“Vern,” Geri said.
“Yes?” Vern said.
“No, I was talking to Diane,” Geri said. “I was telling her to shoot you.”
“What?” Vern said.
The gun in Vern’s hand sagged when he turned toward Geri and Diane, who had locked her Smith and Wesson sites on his head. Walt dashed off two quick steps before Vern saw him out of the corner of his eye and fired his gun.
The bullet missed Walt completely but the noise of the mammoth gun was enough to halt him in his tracks. Vern kept the gun and his eye on Walt but spoke to Geri.
“Want me to shoot him? I will. Just don’t shoot me. I can see now what all’s going on. I ain’t mad. Now think for a second, that’s all I’m asking. Think about it. Kill us both and you got a double murder looking over your shoulder. But listen—if I can buy my life by killing him for you, then you got nothing to worry about. Go on, take the money. His mouth will be full of dirt and mine will be closed, for my own sake. Think about it.”
Geri smiled.
“You are one hell of a businessman, Vern. I’ll give you that. Okay. Shoot him. Sorry, Walt.”
Vern cocked the .357.
“Whoa-Whoa!” Walt said. “Wait now. He gets to haggle but I don’t?”
“Well, what do you bring to the table?” Geri said.
Walt tried to think of something but his mind was racing, scared and skittering and blank.
“I guess I could kill Vern,” Walt said.
“Oh, that’s some weak shit right there,” Vern said. “That’s basically what I offered but I already got a gun on you. Goodbye Walt.”
Vern steadied his gun with his other hand and took aim at Walt.
“Wait!” Walt said.
Walt holding up his hands in front of his face. Hearing a gunshot. But feeling nothing. Hearing Vern shriek, shrill and a little bit silly.
Walt looked up to see Vern rolling on the wet ground, blood running through his fingers where he was clutching his right shoulder. Then Walt saw Geri and Diane crouching, looking up and around and waving their guns in all directions as they tried to see through the sprinkler spray and smoke where the shot had come from.
“You mean you didn’t shoot him?” Walt said.
“Everybody hold still now, damn it,” Sheriff Cady said, his voice barking from somewhere out in the darkness.
Randall walked into the light, rifle up and ready. He trained it at Geri as he approached Vern, who was still crying and writhing on the ground. Randall nodded hello to Walt.
“I can’t believe you shot me,” Vern said. “For chrissakes Randall, we played football together.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Randall said before kicking Vern in his shot shoulder.
51
Just then the sprinklers shut down, their streams petering out to trickles as the heads sank back into the grass. As Walt wiped the water from his face there was a commotion over by Geri and Diane.
Walt looked up just in time to see Geri spin Diane around into a chokehold and press a gun against her temple.
“I said nobody move, damn it,” Sheriff Cady said, walking up with his gun drawn.
Walt saw that Geri’s eyes were open wide and wild.
“Vern, shut the fuck up,” Geri said over the shoulder of her human shield. “I can’t hear myself think with the way you’re going on.”
“You won’t kill her,” Sheriff Cady said.
“Do it,” Diane said. “I don’t care, baby. Do it.”
That’s just nuts, Walt thought.
“Then why the hell should I care if you yourself don’t care,” Sheriff Cady said. “Shoot her already so we can get all this over with.”
That’s even nuttier, Walt thought. Because if anybody will do it, Geri will.
Geri cocked the hammer on her gun.
“Geri c’mon,” Walt said.
“Do it,” Diane said.
“Diane shut up, “Walt said.
“You shut up,” Diane said.
“Okay, shoot her,” Walt said.
“I’ll decide who’s shooting who,” Geri said. “Sheriff, drop your gun.”
Sheriff Cady’s shoulders slumped as he gave in, dropping his gun. When Geri pressed her gun hard against Diane’s temple. She turned Diane’s body roughly toward Randall. He tossed down his rifle.
“Hey Walt,” Geri said. “What do you think I should do?”
Walt ran his hand through his wet hair. “Give up.”
“Figures, “Geri said.
She began backing into the opening of a dark aisle, dragging Diane back with her for cover. Walt stayed put because Sheriff Cady and Randall were staying put. Geri kept backing up, fading into the darkness until all Walt could see was Diane’s face and the gun to her head. Walt waited.
A soft wind carried in more smoke from the range fires. Randall stood over Vern, who had curled up into a ball and passed out. Walt thought Randall was about to make a move, the way the deputy’s eyes kept jumping back and forth between his rifle and Diane with the gun to her head. But the deputy stood his ground. No one spoke.
In the silence, Walt was certain he could hear the low rumble of the fires closing in on the salvage yard.
Then, out of nowhere, Diane began to giggle. Her giggles rose to laughter. She sounded full-blown loony to Walt, who watched her laughing face float in the smoke and darkness with a gun at her head. She did not move and she didn’t speak but kept on laughing. Walt, the Sheriff and Randall all exchanged glances.
“You all right, Diane?” Randall said finally.
Diane collapsed to the ground in laughter. Walt saw there was no one behind her, just the gun propped up on a piece of junk jutting out from the pile. Geri had a head start.
Walt stood frozen in place as Randall, all in one quick motion, scooped up his rifle, stepped over hysterical Diane and took off down the aisle after Geri.
Sheriff Cady, pursing his lips and shaking his head, bent over Diane as he reached for the handcuffs on his belt.
Walt bolted down the nearest aisle. He heard the Sheriff behind him, yelling for him to stop. Walt ducked around the first corner presenting itself, running as fast as he could through the maze of aisles. His gun was slipping down the back of his pants.
Still running blindly, he reached around and pulled out his gun. He remembered the gun’s hair-trigger too late. It went off, scaring him off balance. He tripped. Falling spread eagle like a flying squirrel. It seemed to him to take forever to reach the ground.
His gun went off again as he hit the ground.
A moment later he heard another shot, a few aisles over to his right. Picking himself up and slipping around the end of the aisle, he saw his truck. Fleeting thought—go, go, go.
Instead he stepped slowly, gun raised, cautious around the corners and across the open spaces, toward the sound of the gunshot. His path dead-ended at the perimeter fence.
On the other side of the fence, less than fifty yards away, the range fires burned. An orange line of flames crackling softly in the darkness and consuming the wild brush. Walt stared open-mouthed and awestruck at the fire.
Finally he managed to pull his eyes away, afraid the heat from the flames might score his eyes. He looked up and thought he saw a scarecrow slumped over the barbed wire at the top of the fence.
Then he recognized it was Randall. Walt called to him but there was no answer, no movement.