Skinny waited. He made sure this time that he had the right car. That was definitely his double ought buckshot holes in the tail of the VW. Now all he had to do was wait for Mouse to do the right thing and bring the girl back. This time alive.
Lighting up another cigarette, he leaned back on the VW and inhaled slowly. Exhaled. The air was cold, mixing smoke with heavy steam from his breath. He looked down at his boots; the silver caps were scratched. "Shit," he said.
He took out his knife and stabbed the two front tires. Air escaped slowly as the car settled into a lower position. Then he took a swig of the whiskey he had found in the back seat of the Bug.
"Damned nice of these fellas to provide for my needs."
He heard someone coming down the path. It was probably Mouse. That was quick, he thought, but something told him it was not. It sounded like only one person; CJ would be shouting and putting up a fight. Unless he killed her. That would be just like that stupid shithole.
He decided he had better hide, just in case, and ran to the edge of the road, stepped behind a tree, and waited. Before long, Conner appeared, casually, and too unconcerned to be running away from trouble. He must have left before Mouse got there. Now I have to deal with him, he thought.
Conner came through the opening to the path as if he was entering someone's gated yard, strolled to the car, opened the door, and leaned into the vehicle.
Skinny moved quickly toward the path entrance.
Conner was looking for something and was moving things, reaching further into the back of the car.
Dope hasn't seen the mess yet, Skinny thought. This was a good time for him to move in quickly and clobber him. He would do it neat and clean. He liked killing. There was an art to it and it was musical. The sound the knife made, how it felt as it entered the flesh. No bone, no interference, just a clean slice, and then a quick jerk and twist, and if he hits the right spot, sever the artery. Quick and easy. His was the element of surprise. This guy looks big, so I gotta get right on top of him and do it quick. I don't want no fighting.
He moved quickly, one step, two steps, three, and snap. He stepped on a twig, and the damned thing sounded like a gunshot.
Conner jumped out of the car. When he realized who was behind him and saw the stiletto slicing the air between them, he took off down the road away from the camp.
Skinny ran after him but stopped when they passed his Brougham. He got in and drove after his prey. He could not get away from the road, because on one side there was a steep bank and on the other a river. Conner was still on the road running at full tilt, looking back every few feet.
Skinny waved, smiled, and waved. Follow him slowly, let him get tired out, and then it'll be a cinch to kill him. Then he thought about the situation with Harry and his bodyguard Mouse. Maybe he would need a little assurance. Maybe it would be better to keep this one alive, take him back to the hotel, and hold him hostage, just in case.
"That's it."
He had stopped running. He just stopped and stood there looking around. Skinny pulled up the car in front of him and got out with his knife in hand.
"Now you be a good boy and get into the car and we'll go for a nice ride." He thought Conner would cow, but he put up a fight.
Conner deflected the knife out of Skinny's hand and threw a punch, knocking him to the ground.
But Skinny had spent a lifetime fighting in the streets and bars and was up quickly, almost before he hit the ground it seemed, and with a branch in his hand. Before Conner knew what had hit him, he was out.
Skinny ran to the car and opened the trunk. There was rope in the back, and he used it to hog-tie his captive. That done he got him into the trunk with some effort and closed the lid just as Conner was waking up.
"You be a good boy," he yelled at the trunk, "and stay quiet now, ya hear?" Then to himself, he said, "We're going back to get Mouse and the girl."
The knife was in a small pile of snow-covered leaves over by the river and he wiped it off and made sure it was dry and then folded it up and put it into his pocket. Then he stepped over to the car and urinated in the snow. A plane flew overhead and slowly drifted off into the distance, leaving only the sound of the river trickling over the rocks and gullies. He stepped out onto the pebbled flats and dipped his shoes into the water, washing the mud off.
Someone was calling. It was a voice from back at the other car. He listened. "Conner," he heard it say.
It was the other one. The one he really wanted. How the hell did he escape Mouse? That was not a good thing. His body heated, and he started to sweat.
"Shit," he said. "Goddamnit." He got into the car and turned the key in the ignition and pulled the stick into gear and drove back the way he came throwing stones, gravel, and snow into the air behind him. The car drove over potholes and bumps. He could hear Conner hitting the sides of the trunk but did not care enough to see how he was. He swerved to avoid the holes as best as he could, but Conner still got tosssed around.
He was screaming now, his muffled voice coming from the huge and cavernous trunk. When he felt safe and when he thought Conner was subdued enough, he stopped the car and got out, and opened the trunk.
"You're not dead, are ya?"
He did not look too well. Blood pooled on his face where he scratched it on the jack in the trunk. His hands were tied behind him.
Skinny helped him get out, half dragging him to the back seat, and then pushed him in. He was certain that Mouse didn't do so well in getting CJ and he was pissed that Mouse had let this one walk away from the fight. He had to do something, but more fighting wasn't an option. He would find a safe place to stuff this one for now and go back to the campsite and see what happened.
"You an' me is goin' for a little ride back to the hotel."
"What did you do with Harry and the girl?"
"I'll take care of them later. But for now we're leaving this hole."
Conner tried to kick the door open.
Skinny showed him the knife and put the tip of the blade to Conner's nostril, letting him know he would not look too pretty after Skinny was done with him. "Now you gonna shut the hell up?"
Skinny turned the key in the ignition but nothing happened. "Shit." He tried again. This time it started. Black viscous smoke poured out of the tailpipe. The engine raced and the rear tires spun wildly as the car took off down the pitted road.