LIFERS Chapter Thirty One

Dane and Sam had just driven through Danville and were on their way along highway 58 to Martinsville.

‘This is some fuckin set o’ wheels, Dan ma-boy, yee-haw,’ yelled Dane, as he snaked the X5 across both lanes of the highway.

‘Cut it out, Dane, ya gonna kill the fuckin’ two of us with ya pissin’ around.’

‘Ah stop winin’. T’aint like we’re goin’ fast.’

‘I ain’t winin’ and y’are goin’ fast. Now would ya slow-the-fuck-down?’

‘Oh, I know what this is; you’re just pissed because you ain’t drivin’. Ya drove that heap of shit for a week and now ya wanna go of a real car. Ain’t that so?’

‘No, Dane, I ain’t pissed at nothin’, ya moron, so just slow-the-fuck-down, okay?’

‘Jeez, Sam, you really are a pussy sometimes, ya know that?’

Without warning, Dane did as asked and slammed on the brakes, the car screeched to a stop and threw Sam hard against the inside of the windshield.

‘Ya fuckin’ cocksuckin’ mother fuck … what in hell’s name d’ya go’an do that for, Dane?’

Dane said nothing as he looked out the windshield and let out a long two-tone whistle, his eyes wide as he took in what lay before him.

‘Are you even listenin’ t’me?’

Again Dane said nothing, but this time pointed.

Sam turned to see. ‘Holy fuck,’ he said. ‘Look at the size o’ the thing.’

On the near horizon they saw lightning strikes and thick black cloud with substantial columns of torrential rain scattered over a vast area, and somewhere, in the middle of it all, was Martinsville. It had to be the biggest storm Dane had seen in the last twenty years. He moved his foot from the brake back to the accelerator.

‘What the fuck ya doin’, Dane? Ya know we gotta wait till it’s clear.’

‘Not this time, Sam. No matter what happens or what we come across, we can’t delay gettin’ this cargo to Ella.’

‘Are you sayin’ we gotta risk what’s out there because o’ some girl we got in back?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m sayin’, Sam.’

‘Why, what so fuckin’ special ‘bout this one?’

‘Can’t say, ‘cept we gotta deliver, and soon.’

Sam pouted, folded his arms. ‘Well all I can say is that garage shutter better be wide fuckin’ open when we get there or you’re drivin’ this “Some fuckin’ set o’wheels” right through the fucker. Ya hear me, Dane?’

Dane smiled, flattened the pedal. ‘Copy that, little buddy.’

..

Back inside the cabin of the Marianna II, Mason scrambled to his feet in front of the dresser mirror, his hand over the right side of his face. In his reflection he saw his once, brilliant-white shirt, now a mass of crimson down one side. He removed the hand to see a near-black hole where only a few seconds ago his eye used to be.

Through clenched teeth he let out a guttural scream as he pulled his gun from its holster and headed for the deck. He believed big-time in pay-back, an eye for an eye, but he wanted more than just an eye from this bitch, she was going to pay for what she’d done, with her life.

He barged through the remains of the shattered louver door, stumbled his way up the few steps to the deck, and that’s when he heard something big hit the water. With his one good eye Mason looked over the flimsy length of rope to see Miss Wise just a few feet below the surface in a struggle to maintain buoyancy. He aimed his gun and was about to empty it when the screech of tyres stopped him.

‘Freeze.’

Mason wheeled and took aim, but the police officer who’d shouted had the edge over him and fired. Mason felt two searing explosions in his chest just before he collapsed, his gun slipping from his grip and into the water.

..

The officer who’d fired shots went to the man now lying on the gangplank as his colleague jumped into the lake to save the woman they’d both seen tumble into the water with her hands and feet tethered. After a two minute search he surfaced with the woman’s jaw locked in the crux of his elbow and dragged her lifeless body over to the jetty. The first officer leaned down to help pull her from the water then used his radio to organise medical assistance whilst his partner tried to resuscitate the woman.

‘Dispatch, this is Officer Hinkler.’

‘Go ahead, Officer Hinkler.’

‘In response to that interrupted cell phone call. We have two fatalities, one Caucasian male with gunshot wounds, and one Caucasian female, possible drowning. We require assistance over at Greenview Lake, Pier 17 … over.’

‘Dispatch to Officer Hinkler, please stand-by.’

Officer Hinkler looked over at his partner and the dead woman. ‘Anything I can do to help, Mitch?’

‘No,’ he said, as he pumped her chest three more times. ‘I think it’s too late for this one. How’s the guy?’

‘Dead before he hit the deck, no pun intended.’

‘Dispatch to Officer Hinkler, you have paramedics on the way, they should be with you in approximately eight minutes. Do you require any further assistance? Over.’

‘No, dispatch, no further assistance is required … over and out.’

When Officer Hinkler finished on the radio he searched the dead man for some form of identification but found nothing. He stepped over the body to board the Marianna II; his gun held out before him, should he find others on board.