THUGLIT Issue Seven Read Online Free Page A
Author: Michael Sears, Edward Hagelstein, Ed Kurtz, Joe Clifford, Christopher E. Long, Marie S. Crosswell, Justin Ordonez, Benjamin Welton
it out.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said. He said it real calm, like there wasn't any guns on him at all.
To me, Poke whispered, "In and out, man. In and out."
He 'd said it before, on the way there. I knew what he meant.
" I want you two put your hands on top of your heads and face up to the wall there," I said to the dudes flanking Porky Valentine. The one of the left glared at me and the other dude looked to Porky to see what should he do. Porky nodded, just once. Both men laced their fingers over their domes and walked to the wall, where they stood with their backs to us.
I came over to the table and rifled through the cash. It wasn 't much. Card money was all. I gathered it up and stuffed it in my pocket anyway. Only about fifty bucks.
Porky went on smoking and said, "Satisfied? You robbed a blackjack game. Big win for you. Now get the hell out of my storeroom."
I looked to Poke and he pushed the fella he was holding away from him. The guy staggered a few feet and then went to join his buddies against the wall. Now Porky had two guns on him and he still didn 't look like it much mattered to him. He was sweating worse than anyone I ever saw, but I reckoned it was hot in there and he was twice as big as he ought to be. You can tell when a man's scared by looking at his eyes, and I didn't think he was scared at all.
Poke got up close to Porky and that SIG wasn 't but six inches from the big man's nose.
" Here's what's gonna go down," Poke said. He was talking real low, trying to disguise his voice. We didn't talk about that and I was pissed off I didn't do it, too. "You're gonna stay real still and keep your eyes on this here gun, right? And my partner here, he's going take a look at that pegleg of yours."
Porky didn 't move and he didn't speak. He just looked right in Poke's eyes like he could read the man's mind. I got to work. I kneeled down on the bossman's right side and lifted up his pant leg. He had on a fancy looking dress shoe with little tassels on top, but it wasn't on a real foot. Sticking straight up from the shoe was a metal rod. I clanged my .45 against it and it rang like a bell. It was a fake leg all right, but there wasn't anything wooden about it.
" How's it work?" I barked at Porky.
He didn 't do or say anything, so Poke had to tell him, "Show him."
The fat man turned his bulk to me and reached down with one of those tree trunk arms of his to grab a hold of the cuff. He yanked it up and tore the fabric clear up to the knee. I bet those pants cost him a hundred fifty bucks—but then, he could afford it.
I lost interest in the pants when I saw the rest of the leg. His natural leg came down a bit under the knee, where there was this gray plastic cap that fit over the stump. Under that the rod was fixed, and that came down right into the shoe. I was expecting a thick hunk of wood with a hidden compartment. This wasn 't that.
" Diabetes is a hell of a thing," Porky said. "One of these days I'll lose the other one, too."
He knocked at it with his knuckles. There wasn 't any compartment. There was no money there at all. Then his knocking hand stuck out one finger, and as he slid the false foot back the finger pointed at the floor under it. There was a small square cut out of the wood there, with hinges on one side and a padlock on the other. A goddamned floor safe.
I said, "Fuck me."
Porky said, "Lashawn."
One of the guys behind me turned with a gun in his hand and the next thing it went off and Poke 's head snapped back. The SIG dropped from his hand like a rock and he went down just as if he was KO'd. I saw the blood seeping out before I thought to try shooting my way out of there, but when I came round to aim at Lashawn, Porky pounded his ham-sized fist against the top of my skull and I went out like a goddamn light.
*****
The pain that brought me back was worse than anything I ever felt before. It was like my leg was being ripped apart, and I tried to jerk away
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said. He said it real calm, like there wasn't any guns on him at all.
To me, Poke whispered, "In and out, man. In and out."
He 'd said it before, on the way there. I knew what he meant.
" I want you two put your hands on top of your heads and face up to the wall there," I said to the dudes flanking Porky Valentine. The one of the left glared at me and the other dude looked to Porky to see what should he do. Porky nodded, just once. Both men laced their fingers over their domes and walked to the wall, where they stood with their backs to us.
I came over to the table and rifled through the cash. It wasn 't much. Card money was all. I gathered it up and stuffed it in my pocket anyway. Only about fifty bucks.
Porky went on smoking and said, "Satisfied? You robbed a blackjack game. Big win for you. Now get the hell out of my storeroom."
I looked to Poke and he pushed the fella he was holding away from him. The guy staggered a few feet and then went to join his buddies against the wall. Now Porky had two guns on him and he still didn 't look like it much mattered to him. He was sweating worse than anyone I ever saw, but I reckoned it was hot in there and he was twice as big as he ought to be. You can tell when a man's scared by looking at his eyes, and I didn't think he was scared at all.
Poke got up close to Porky and that SIG wasn 't but six inches from the big man's nose.
" Here's what's gonna go down," Poke said. He was talking real low, trying to disguise his voice. We didn't talk about that and I was pissed off I didn't do it, too. "You're gonna stay real still and keep your eyes on this here gun, right? And my partner here, he's going take a look at that pegleg of yours."
Porky didn 't move and he didn't speak. He just looked right in Poke's eyes like he could read the man's mind. I got to work. I kneeled down on the bossman's right side and lifted up his pant leg. He had on a fancy looking dress shoe with little tassels on top, but it wasn't on a real foot. Sticking straight up from the shoe was a metal rod. I clanged my .45 against it and it rang like a bell. It was a fake leg all right, but there wasn't anything wooden about it.
" How's it work?" I barked at Porky.
He didn 't do or say anything, so Poke had to tell him, "Show him."
The fat man turned his bulk to me and reached down with one of those tree trunk arms of his to grab a hold of the cuff. He yanked it up and tore the fabric clear up to the knee. I bet those pants cost him a hundred fifty bucks—but then, he could afford it.
I lost interest in the pants when I saw the rest of the leg. His natural leg came down a bit under the knee, where there was this gray plastic cap that fit over the stump. Under that the rod was fixed, and that came down right into the shoe. I was expecting a thick hunk of wood with a hidden compartment. This wasn 't that.
" Diabetes is a hell of a thing," Porky said. "One of these days I'll lose the other one, too."
He knocked at it with his knuckles. There wasn 't any compartment. There was no money there at all. Then his knocking hand stuck out one finger, and as he slid the false foot back the finger pointed at the floor under it. There was a small square cut out of the wood there, with hinges on one side and a padlock on the other. A goddamned floor safe.
I said, "Fuck me."
Porky said, "Lashawn."
One of the guys behind me turned with a gun in his hand and the next thing it went off and Poke 's head snapped back. The SIG dropped from his hand like a rock and he went down just as if he was KO'd. I saw the blood seeping out before I thought to try shooting my way out of there, but when I came round to aim at Lashawn, Porky pounded his ham-sized fist against the top of my skull and I went out like a goddamn light.
*****
The pain that brought me back was worse than anything I ever felt before. It was like my leg was being ripped apart, and I tried to jerk away
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