The shotgun blast had forced Cuke and the sheriff to take cover behind the Mercury.
“Get it now,” the Russian said.
James leaned against the Skylark, gasping for air. The Russian had kicked him in the stomach and he’d felt the stale candy bars rise up his throat. He imagined the bruise that was already beginning to form on his stomach, a blue waffle grid from the sole of the Russian’s running shoe. He wondered if he’d live to see it.
“Drop your weapon,” the sheriff demanded.
The Russian ignored him. He was not to be slowed. He motioned James with a sweep of the sawed-off and bared his big yellow teeth.
James wiped his mouth and staggered toward the back of the Skylark. He popped the trunk open and stared down at the suitcase, waited for the Russian to tell him what to do next. The Russian was no longer beside him, but had slipped back to the van and was standing next to the open door. His eyes were set back deep in their sockets, it was impossible to tell what they were watching.
“Bring it to me.”
“You’re not going to get away with this,” the sheriff said. “I am the law around here.”
The Russian turned his head and spat. “Do yourself a favor and stay out. This business has nothing to do with you anymore. It’s only between me and the boy.”
James stayed frozen next to the car. There were way too many guns waving around. He could see that things weren’t going to end well. And he happened to be in the middle of it.
The Russian must have read his mind. He smiled and beckoned James with his hand as if summoning a child. James obeyed. What else could he do? His gut told him what the Russian had planned. He couldn’t possibly get the.38 out in time. And that left the only alternative. To walk straight through the flames. As soon as he handed him the suitcase there would be a white-hot flash, and that would be the last thing he’d ever know. A change in ownership.
Sweat poured down his forehead and stung his eyes. The suitcase felt heavier than he’d remembered, maybe because he saw his future in it more than ever. Now his future was going to be taken from him either way, with or without the money. There was a stabbing pain in his shoulder as he lifted it out of the trunk. He took a deep breath and tottered toward the Russian.
You got close James. You got close but you still can’t cut it. He’s got a right to be pissed about his face.
He could hear the Russian breathing, like the minute hand of a melting clock. If he didn’t do anything now it would probably be the last thing he’d hear while blood exited his body. A lot of blood.
And then hell broke loose all around him.
Screams coming from the Mercury. Cuke and the sheriff rising from the other side, going balls out. Muzzleflash and the sound of lead splitting the night.
The Russian began to sway back and forth in a lazy dance. He fired the sawed-off and the Mercury sank to the ground on shredded tires. Plumes of safety glass exploded from the windows and rained down on their heads. Choking cordite smoke filled the air.
James crouched next to the suitcase, unable to move. He watched the Russian calmly pause to reload. He hadn’t gone down. The large man had been shot several times but he was still standing. Was he wearing a vest? Then it became more obvious what was happening. The big man’s motor control was going down the tubes. His fingers couldn’t hold onto the shells long enough to drop them into the sawed-off.
Pounding on adrenaline, James reached under the hoodie and pulled the.38 from his waistband. The Russian looked up at him. He’d dropped the sawed-off and was starting to lose consciousness, reached out to catch the door as he fell. James turned and saw Cuke taking aim and he’d fired at him before even knowing what he was doing. Cuke collapsed onto the Mercury’s hood and slid off, leaving a slick dark trail. James felt his insides tumble out.
Oh god no. Not Cuke.
The sheriff returned fire. Bullets pinged off the Skylark, ruining the dreamy paint job. James felt a hot stitch rip across his left ear as he dropped to his knees and shot three rounds through the Mercury’s shattered windows. He heard the sheriff give out a grunt before collapsing to the ground on the other side.
James grabbed the suitcase and ran for the Skylark.