raised by wolves

I stand and watch the burning cars. I wonder about the woman. Where could she have gone? I start walking. The blood runs through me like oil in an overheated engine. I’m all wired up from caffeine and killing. I need to get my head straight. I need to decide what I’m going to do.

As I walk down the street away from The Crab, I hear a strange sound, a whistling and a pop, but quiet and far away. Something goes zing! past my ear. I start running. People see silencers in movies and think it does what it’s name implies. But that’s not true. A silencer reduces the sound of gunfire substantially, but does not silence it. The mechanical noise of gun parts sliding back and forth is still there. The sound of bullets whizzing through the air is still there. That’s what I’m hearing. I drop behind a car and hope I’m running in the right direction—that is, away from whoever is shooting at me.

I get up and run some more. That distant clicking of gun parts is getting harder to hear. I’m going the right way. But I’m still in range. The sound of glass shattering is still there. I pivot on my toe as a I leap forward and run backwards like you would if you were playing soccer, in order to try and catch a glimpse of whoever is shooting at me. I look high for perches, but everything is pretty much ground level. I look at second story windows, but I’m in the middle of a long street, all the doors and windows facing me on either side. No one could hang out a window and shoot like that. Then I’m stunned to see the distant figure of a man with a rifle running towards me from a few blocks further up than The Crab. Reinforcements. He’s fast as hell. Gaining on me. I see him raise the rifle and take the shot. I drop and duck behind another car. The side view mirror shatters and flies apart. A high caliber round leaves a dent in the asphalt. I take a deep breath and pull my legs up to my chest. I reach for my gun. At the count of five, I pull my gun. At ten I’m up and aiming for him, but he’s not there. He’s gone.

Suddenly the street seems a lot shorter. I realize, somehow that I’m only two blocks away from The Crab at absolute most. Did I run in a circle? I get confused about directions sometimes, but I don’t think I turned at all. My head is above me on the end of a string, like a balloon it feels like. What is going on?

It seems I have just hallucinated being chased by a man in a brown suit and ski mask, but I can’t think of anything that makes that sound reasonable. On the other hand, I can’t think of any other explanation. I put my gun away and begin walking briskly home. I try to think as little as possible. Not thinking is easy. Thinking is difficult. My head clears before I get to my door.

It’s late now, past midnight. Nine hours. I’m starving but I don’t have time to eat. I sit down in my apartment. I yawn and stretch and then slouch down real far in the chair and put my hands in the pockets of my coat. I feel a small piece of paper in one of them. I pull it out. Salvatore Lusky. I clench my fist around the business card. I’m out the door.

I burst through the door of the Pallid Mallard like the goddamn Incredible Hulk. The girl in front screams. I’m surprised they’re still open. It looks dead. I point my gun at the girl and demand to know where Lusky is hiding. I’ve killed enough of his men by now that he’s got to know his plans turned to shit. But that doesn’t matter. Fuck his plans. No one uses me.

But what if she was lying? Something inside me says. You still don’t know who she is.

But the more I think about it, the more I feel like I do. Why did she run? Why didn’t I chase her?

“Where is he?” I say again and pick the girl up by the collar. Her face turns white and she points towards the stairs. I drop her and tell her to run. She does. Smart girl.

Downstairs, Lusky is eating a bowl of soup at a table of armed men. He does a perfect spit take when he sees me, and I start shooting. I brought two guns for this one. The red mist fills the room and Lusky sits there at the end with soup dribbling down his chin, mouth hanging stupidly agape. I count the sitting dead men. Six. I smile at Lusky.

“I have some questions I’d like you to answer, Mr. Lusky.”

Lusky drops his spoon into his soup and gets up from the table as fast as he can, knocking his chair over. He breaks for a door that isn’t there. We’re in the basement. There’s only one set of stairs. I grab him by his thinning hair and pull him backwards and onto the floor.

“Mc…” he chokes out, my foot on his throat. “Legs! Achh!” I take my foot off and let him breathe, then I bend down and put my knee on his chest.

“Legs, Legs, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just listen! Listen to me will you! I can explain I can explain! They weren’t after you! The men you killed, they were after the woman I swear!”

I pause. Interrogations aren’t usually this easy.

“We didn’t set you up! She’s the one setting you up! My men were at The Crab to get her, we’d been watching her. Oh God, Legs you gotta believe me!”

I slug him one in the mouth for good measure.

“She’s not your mother! She’s a con!”

I slug him again.

“She wasn’t even married to Cosmo! He didn’t want nothin’ to do with her! I swear it! She works for Von Tier! Those pictures are fakes, she tried pulling the same con on one of my guys about two years ago! I swear it, I swear it!”

I pick him up and toss him over a table. I put my hands on his face and press down.

“Even if you were telling the truth,” I say, my face mere centimeters from his. I look directly into his eyes, from as close as I could possibly be without kissing the guy. “I’d kill you anyway.”

I cover his mouth with one hand and close his windpipe with the other. I hold him down until he’s gone.

Outside of the Pallid Mallard, I hear that familiar zing!

I’ll try something different this time. I throw up my hands and call out, “Lusky’s dead!”

I hear another shot whiz past me. “Come on!” I holler. “Killing me won’t solve anything! You won’t even get paid now!”

Another shot, and I look down the street. Here he comes. Brown suit and ski mask. Big scary rifle. Running full speed.

“You can’t shoot worth shit, man!”

This time I don’t take my eyes off him. I pull my guns and start shooting back. And somewhere in the muzzle flashes and sulfur smell, he vanishes again.

This is getting insane.

I feel dizzy again. I find a payphone.

“Hello?” she says, voice like a church mouse with a cold. She was asleep. I shouldn’t have called.

“Gracie?”

“Legs? What time is it?”

“Gracie, something strange is happening. Can you meet me somewhere? I’m down town.”

“What time is it?” she says again, still struggling to break the hold of sleep.

“About three. I’m sorry Gracie, I just…”

“No, it’s okay, I know…Give me a minute.” she takes a deep breath.

“I’ll meet you at Wester’s in half an hour. Is that okay?”

I can’t help but give a big sigh of relief. I tell her it’s fine and thank her. Maybe too much.

No, she’ll understand. She’s smart. She’ll know what to do. She’ll know just what to tell me.

At least, this is what I tell myself on the walk to Wester’s.