Bigfoot Crank Stomp (16 page)

Jesus
, he thought and lowered the rifle and swallowed a mouthful of disgust.

“What is it?”

Manny weighed how to tell her, even if he should tell her. Then he reasoned he had to. She’d trusted him, come with him this far, put her life in his hands. This wasn’t the time to be hiding things because they were horrendous.

“The guy you were with, Russell, what’s he look like?”

“White, skinny.”

“Short hair?”

“Yeah.”

Manny nodded. “The Sheriff got him.”

“Good.” Seph smiled but her sudden surge of happiness dimmed and the corner of her lips turned back down when she saw the look on Manny’s face. “What? Is that who was screaming?”

“Yeah. He’s the one crying right now.”

“What are they doing to him?” Before he could answer her right hand shot up and covered her mouth. Her eyes bulged. “The grunting. He’s being raped?”

Manny nodded.

“Oh my God.”

“That’s not all.”

Her breath seemed to catch in her throat a second. “What do you mean?”

Manny rubbed his forehead. “There are two other deputies holding him down. But I don’t think they have much choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“That may be but I think the Sheriff has gone off the reservation.”

“You think?”

Manny didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “There are two more deputies down there. Not the two holding Russell down. No, these two have gunshot wounds to the head.”

“The Sheriff—”

“Yep.”

“So what do we do?”

Manny patted the stock of the rifle. “I’ll show you what we—”

His words were severed by shrieking howls. Manny lifted the scope to his eye. The Sheriff stood with his back arched and arms stretched toward heaven, howling at the moon. The other two deputies had backed away, no longer holding poor Russell.

Take your shot, Sniper
, Manny thought. He lined the Sheriff’s face in the crosshairs. His finger slid onto the trigger. He took a deep breath and held it and started to squeeze—

The Sheriff stepped back and waved a deputy forward, obstructing the shot.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just lost sight of things for a moment.”

The Sheriff had fixed his clothes and watched as the deputies hiked Russell’s pants back up and pull him off the hood and turn him around. Manny could hear their voices but couldn’t make out the words. Then the Sheriff laughed and whipped the barrel across Russell’s face. The deputies caught him and held him up. The Sheriff stepped forward and hit him in the gut. This time the deputies let him drop to the ground.

Manny tried to line up another shot but there was too much unpredictable movement. The Sheriff launched a boot into the side of Russell’s face. Then stomped on his spine. Then bent over and laughed in the man’s face before slapping him. Then he ordered the deputies to join the assault.

“Sounds like their killing him,” Seph said.

“That about sums it up.”

“Can you do something?”

“I can’t get a clean shot. I may need to get closer.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

Russell was trying to roll away. The deputies kicked him as he did. The Sheriff followed, rubbing his crotch and howling here and there. They passed the cruiser and started down the driveway. Russell crawled now, arm over arm. The deputies were half-assing it now, kicking at his heels and elbows. No stomps. More like foot swipes. Ever few steps the Sheriff would run forward and mash down on his fingers or slap him in the back of the head. One time he spat on him.

Then they were out of view, down the driveway toward the Loop.

“Is he dead?”

“Not yet.” Manny lowered the rifle and turned to her. “They’re kicking him down the driveway.”

She shook her head. “Russell’s a son of a bitch but no one deserves this.”

“I can go stop them. If you stay here—”

“Don’t leave me alone.”

“Do you want to get closer, see if we can do something?”

She nodded. “We should at least try, right?”

“Yeah.” He shifted into a crouch. “We’ll still move slow. No talking. Stay behind me and follow my lead. I’ll use basic hand signals. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go then.”

BIGFOOT/BUNNY

It snorted everything he could find. What was left in the pipe. What was strewn on the ground. It licked the inside of the pipe clean. Not enough, though. Not enough.

It tore through the tent. Found two more rocks. Gone. Still not enough. Needed more.

It stomped around the site, sniffing, trying to catch a whiff of anything. Something. Something on the wind. But minute. Not here. No, all it smelled here was man scent. Woman scent. Spent seed.

The woman on the ground, the one asleep, stirred. Her legs parted as she scratched between then. It watched. Watched her fingers rake the skin around her sex. Smelled her fluid.

It reached down and touched its sex. Found it hardening. It moved to her.

***

Bunny’s lips itched. She reached down and scratched. Probably got bit by something. Shouldn’t have passed out in the dirt.

But it’d been worth it. After watching the shower scene, she needed an escape. Needed to feel alive and she only felt alive in her dreams. On crank, they were so vivid. So real. Not like the real world. Not like her sad life.

“Guy, you wouldn’t believe the dream I had this time,” she said, fluttering and wiping her eyes. “There was you and kitten and a monster. It—”

She opened her eyes all the way. Something hovered over her. Something humongous. Inches from her face. Something ape-like.

It took her another moment to realize it wasn’t hovering. It was propped on its right elbow. The other hand was fumbling around somewhere out of sight. She felt it brush against her thighs. Between her thighs. Then something touched—

She started to scream but its left hand came up and clamped down on her mouth. It covered her nose and her left eye. She could still see with her right. See the frenzy in its eyes and it pushed.

Oh God
, she thought.

It hurt. It hurt so badly. Even though she was wet it hurt. Enormous. Ripping her from the inside out.

Then it thrust deep and she almost lost consciousness. She could feel it in her stomach. Her ribs.

It grunted and thrusted. Faster. Harder. And finally, Bunny did lose consciousness. As she did she thought,
Nothing but filler.

RUSSELL/GABE

“Now do us a favor,” Gabe said. He leaned down close to Russell’s face to make sure he heard him. “Don’t go running off on us.”

Russell groaned. Gabe laughed and rose. Then he kicked dirt and gravel in his face. It stuck to the blood and spit

“Let’s go up and get ready for Bigfoot.” Gabe turned and started back up the driveway.

“What about him?” Betts said.

Gabe turned and shrugged. “Kill him if you want.”

“Are we just going to leave him?”

“We had our fun but we got more important fish to fry. The Foot will be here any minute. I can feel it.”

“What if he runs off?”

“Does he look like he’s running anywhere?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Pronger said. “Doesn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere for a long time.”

“He’ll probably bleed out right there.” Gabe rubbed his crotch. “From his asshole or his face. Ha!” He pointed his gun at them. “Let’s go, fuckers.”

Betts held up his hands. “Ah, come on, Sheriff. You don’t have to point that at us.”

“Then start walking. You think I’m going to let you follow so you can put a round of your own in my back?”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Pronger said.

Gabe grinned. “Then you are fucking stupid. Let’s go. If Russell’s still alive when we’re done with Bigfoot, maybe I’ll give him one more dance before finishing him off. You hear that Russell?”

Russell groaned.

“See, he understands. Now how about you two prove you do, too, and get your asses moving.”

***

Russell coughed and rolled onto his stomach. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. Couldn’t feel it move either. He didn’t know if it was permanent or swelling had just closed it up. Pain raced up his sides like fire. Busted ribs for sure. Probably all of them. It hurt like hell to breathe. To move.

He pushed up to his knees and retched and vomited blood. When he did, agony smashed its way all the way down his spine to his ass. But he stayed on his knees. He refused to fall back on his face, no matter how much it hurt.

Because across from him was Mickey’s Ford.

You can do this
, he thought, blinking blood out of his right eye. He wiped it with the back of his hand and started to crawl toward the truck. Each time his knee hit gravel, it felt like a spike was driven into his thighs.

Keep moving
, he thought. He couldn’t tell how far the truck was. Too blurry. But it was getting closer.

Rocks dug into his palms. Blood filled his eye again. He wiped it away and gnashed his teeth and pressed on.

“Keep—” Moving his jaw was like getting hit with a sledge hammer. He shut up and thought,
Moving. Keep moving
.

He reached the front bumper. When he touched the cold metal, he almost cried.

Keep. Moving.

He grabbed the bumper with both hands and pulled up. Up. Up. Until he was standing, leaning on the hood.

Oh, God
, he thought.
It hurts. Everything hurts so much
.

Then he realized where he was. The hood.

He spat and used the truck to brace himself up and moved around the side. Holding the fender. Holding the door. Holding the bed.

At the back bumper, he lowered into a squat and reached under. And found nothing.

No
, he thought.
It’s here. Mickey always kept it here
.

He clawed, fingers scratching metal and rust. It had to be here.

There!

He clenched a box and pulled it away and lifted it close to his good eye. The hideaway key.

Please let it still be in here,
he thought.
Please
.

Russell slowly slid the box open, praying the whole way. A small glint of light reflected off a surface within. He reached in and lifted the key and tossed the box. Somehow he managed a smile. It didn’t hurt too much. Then he grasped the bed and started making his way for the driver’s door.

***

Gabe paced in a circle around the cruiser behind the cabin. “Where the fuck is it?”

Neither Betts or Pronger offered a response.

“You two opened the baggies, right?”

They nodded.

“Well, fuck!” Gabe stomped the dirt three times in rapid succession. “What the fuck kind of meth-Foot doesn’t come running when the meth bell is ringing?”

“Maybe it died,” Pronger said.

“From what?”

“We did shoot it. Maybe it bled out.”

“No way.” Gabe completed another lap. “No way. Not a beast like that. No way it’s going out like a bitch.” He pointed the gun at Lyle and Stanger. “Like these two.”

“Speaking of them.” Pronger swallowed hard and looked away from them. “Should we call the Coroner or something?”

“And tell him what? I killed them?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“How would you explain it then?”

“I don’t know. I figured you have a plan.”

“That’s right. We’re going to bury them.”

“Bury them.”

“Yep. Somewhere no one will find them. All the bodies got to go.”

“The dealers, too.”

“And Russell and that fuck Manny Lopez who called it in.”

“Christ, Sheriff,” Betts said. “You’re going to kill Manny.”

“Everyone who knows about this either kisses the ring—” He waved the gun at them. “Or dies. I don’t think Manny’s a kissing ring kind of guy. So he shares a plot with these shitbirds for the rest of eternity.”

“What about Debbie?” Pronger said. “She took the call. You wouldn’t hurt her.”

“That’s right.” Gabe reached down and rubbed his flaccid cock. Maybe he’d finally drained it dry. “Because she’s going to kiss the ring and whatever else I tell her to.”