by Thomas Baker
"Get ready," JT told Linda, reaching for the door handle.
He turned it and shoved hard, racing inside as he ducked down. They both scuttled to Albright's desk. The room was empty. There was a door on the right-hand side of the room behind the desk. JT thought he heard voices coming from behind it. JT pointed at it and waved to Linda. It made him think of Dusty and he smiled a little. Son of a bitch was annoying, but I sure could use him right now. Tyroneas well. The thought made the rage build and bubble up inside of JT anew. If Albright was behind this door, JT felt he would kill him. No hesitation.
JT turned the knob and shoved hard. The door connected against something with a loud thud and a groan. JT and Linda rushed in to find Gus on the ground, Hannah standing over him, and Charlie with a rifle pointed at them. Charlie was standing in front of a bed. The sheets on it were a tangled mess. JT's mind automatically jumped to conclusions he wished it hadn't.
"My prayers have been answered, look who it is," Charlie snickered.
JT tensed up to lunge at Charlie, bat tight in his grip. All other thoughts vanished.
"No, no big guy," Charlie said, waving his gun between the four of them. "Don't even think about it. You try anything and I will not only shoot you, but I will put a bullet in each of your friends as you watch helplessly."
"Doesn't sound very Christian of you," Linda sneered.
Charlie ignored the jab. "All of you, over there in the corner. And pick up the old man."
JT, beyond frustration, dropped the bat and helped Gus up. "Damn it Gus, you were supposed to stay behind. What the hell are you doing here? You are in no shape-"
"Shut up," Charlie demanded. "We will have nothing but the sound of silence until the Reverend gets back. When he does oh, will he be so happy with me. Now do as you're told boy."
The four of them stood against the wall. Hannah suddenly took a step towards Charlie.
"You get back, like I told you," Charlie said, jabbing the gun towards her.
"You better not shoot me Charlie," Hannah said in a soft voice. "Think about how angry it would make Albright, if you damaged me."
She took another step in his direction.
"I think Albright is all but done with you," Charlie said, waving his gun again towards her. "You were to be his juicy little pet, and you were falling right for it. If Gus hadn't shown up, Albright would have been deep into you."
JT took a chance. He dove at his bat and scooped it up. Charlie turned his gun to JT. In one swift movement, Hannah pivoted and kicked but Charlie saw it coming and caught Hannah with an elbow to the chin, knocking her hard. With a stagger Hannah fell backwards, hitting the bed frame and falling over it onto the bed. JT rushed at Charlie, Hannah's attack giving him the time he needed to close the distance. He wasn't fast enough. He wasn't Tyrone. Charlie brought his rifle up. The barrel was only inches away and trained right between JT's eyes.
"Drop it tough guy." Charlie's words were cold.
JT threw the bat down at Charlie's feet and glanced over to Hannah who still on the bed, holding her chin.
"Awe, isn't that sweet? You're worried about your little heifer," Charlie mocked.
JT shifted his eyes to stare into Charlie's.
"Fuck you. You think you're tough? That you're any less expendable than any of us to your false idol out there? People like you are hollow, filled with empty promises. You like the power. Your savior Albright? He's fake, a phony... a goddamn liar. You're just small town white trash."
Charlie dug the barrel of his rifle into the bridge of JT's nose and threw his shoulder into the stock. JT could feel his skin split open. The warmth of the blood seeped out and trickled down onto his lips.
"Reverend Albright is the Lamb Of God. He will take away the sins of the earth. Leave it to the more fitting people, like me. Now sinner, you shouldpray for your souls. You're about to lose it."
Charlie clicked off the safety and pressed gently against the trigger. JT tensed his body, ready to pounce. He took one last glance at Hannah. If he was going to get shot, it would be while fighting.
"That's enough Charlie!" Randall's voice wavered as he shouted, weapon drawn on Charlie. He took one step through the open doorway.
"Well now, it's a party! It's my friend Randall!" Charlie shouted back, lips in a snarl.
Charlie turned his attention from JT. He pointed his rifle at the Sheriff, meeting Randall's standoff. Hannah slid out of the bed and crept next to JT. When she reached him, she put her arm around his.
"Gus, would you and your friends here mind giving me and Charlie here some alone time?" Randall was stone cold.
"No one is going anywhere Sheriff. My word is law now!" Charlie bellowed.
Everyone in the room jumped when a ceramic urn exploded on a shelf next to where Charlie stood. Sheriff Randall grinned at the bewildered Charlie.
"Now as I was saying, these people are free to go. This is between you and me Charlie. First though, you will give JT your gun. We will settle this like men, not that I think you have much honor."
Charlie's grin was like a predator. JT thought this was a bad move by Randall. He had Charlie in his sights. He should just shoot the bastard. Charlie dropped the rifle and kicked it.
It skidded and screeched across the wood floor. Instead of into JT's hands, the gun fully went underneath the Reverend's bed.
"Opps," taunted Charlie.
"Take this and leave," Randall said, stretching out his pistol to JT.
JT took it and Randall shooed them out. JT led Hannah and Gus out into Albright's office.
"There. Now that were both unarmed, let's handle this the old-fashioned way," Randall said, before JT closed the door and clicked it locked.
"Sheriff, are you sure you want to head down this path? It's a real rocky road with a painful end," Charlie grinned as he raised his fists looking to enjoy delivering some pain.
"Charles, let me make this crystal clear so even you can understand. I'm no stranger to whipping a man's ass. Now I will take this here badge off and set it on this here dresser. If you can walk out of here with it, the town is yours."
Randall removed his badge and slammed it down on the dresser. Both men put on a theatrical show for one another as Randall rolled up his sleeves and tightened up his belt. Charlie matched his challenge by slowing sliding off his denim jacket and sweatshirt leaving him in a dingy wife beater. He had a wide smile on his face as he slicked back his matted hair and using a rubber band from around his wrist, pinned his hair back in a sloppy ponytail. The two men started towards each other in chess match like movements, feeling each other out and waiting to strike like a coiled snake.
"Well come on Randall, this is what you wanted right? Let's dance before the Lord. When I'm done beating your face, I'll bring Albright your head in a box."
Charlie swung first. Randall ducked out of the way and shoved Charlie in the back as his momentum carried him past. Charlie quickly spun around and caught a jab right to his nose rocking his head back. He staggered back a couple of steps and rushed at Randall like a defensive tackle chasing the ball carrier.
Randall tried to hunker down and resist but Charlie was too strong as both men crashed over a trunk at the foot of the bed, falling to the floor. Randall gasped as Charlie squeezed his hands around his throat. He tried to break Charlie's grip but with his leverage he had no chance. A gunshot bust through one of the windows, sending glass spraying everywhere and distracting Charlie enough for Randall to jam his thumb into Charlie's eye, causing him to break his hold or risk losing his eye.
Charlie rolled away and returned to his feet. Sheriff Randall took longer to make it back to his feet, cursing the process ofaging the entire time. Punks like this he would have chewed up and spit out ten years prior.
He was up in time to get caught in the jaw by a vicious uppercut. It felt like his teeth had exploded out in a volcanic spray. Randall's head whirled around in a dizzying fashion. He wobbled back and caught himself on the bed. Charlie didn't let up. He ca
me at him again, punching him twice in the face and landing a hard right hook flush to his cheek. Randall sat back on the bed trying desperately to regain his composure. He didn't think he had ever been hit so hard in his life.
Charlie stepped back to swing again but this time he telegraphed it. Randall ducked out of the way just in time by sliding to the floor and rolling under him. Randall kicked as hard as he could from his sitting position and connected into the side of Charlie's left knee. He screamed in rage and pain as he staggered. Sheriff Randall saw his opening and attacked. He came at Charlie throwing a flurry of rights and left, landing one right in Charlie's throat. Charlie wheezed and grasped his neck. Randall followed with two hard shots right to Charlie's solar plexus.
Breathing heavy and sweating now, Randall didn't let up. He came at Charlie again, delivering hard knees to his face and body. He straightened Charlie into a standing position and wound up for the knockout blow. This time Charlie went under the blow and faded back as he caught Randall square on the chin again.
Randall fell backwards onto his ass, dazed and confused as he looked out for Charlie's next move. He could see him but Charlie was a blur. He stepped forward kicking Randall right in the middle of his chest. Randall rolled over on his elbows trying to get up or defend himself.He felt Charlie swish by, saw him retrieved his Sheriff's Badge from the dresser. Through increasingly fuzzy vision, Randall watched as Charlie pinned it on himself.
Randall had made it to his hands and knees. Charlie returned to his punishment, kicking him. This time right in the side of his jaw, which landed with a sickening thud. The blow sent Randall over on his back, eyes darting around the room, fading in and out but staying above consciousness. He groggily watched as Charlie stood above him staring down, placing his foot on Randall's throat.
"You don't fight too badly for an old man, Randall," Charlie leaned in a little, more adding pressure to his throat.
"Fuck you, Charlie," Randall spit out the words through his now busted open lips.
"Hear ye, hear ye," Charlie began. "Dear beloved people of this church and of the town of Gateway City. I Charles Dean Robinson am herebydeclared your new Sheriff and sworn protector!" Charlie raised his arms in praise and victory.
As woozy as he was Randall still noticed the knife in Charlie's boot. He eased it out as Charlie continued his celebration.
"Charlie," The Sheriff gargled out the words.
Charlie looked down to see Randall plunge the entire length of the hunting blade into his calf. He howled in agony as the pain surged up and down his leg. He lost his balance and stumbled off of Randall, bending over to clutch his wounded limb.
Randall rolled over and rose to his feet. Once he was sure he had his balance, he kicked Charlie as hard as he could in his backside. The blow sent him crashing forward headfirst into the large mirror that ran the length of the dresser with a satisfying crack. Charlie slumped to the floor in a fetal position, crimson streaks now trickling down his forehead. Randall supported himself on the dresser and berated Charlie with incensed anger.
"You have the right to remain silent." Stomp.
"Anything you say can and will be used against you." Stomp.
"You have the right to an attorney." Stomp.
"If you cannot afford one, one will be provided." Stomp.
"Do you understand the rights I have just given you?" Randall knelt down beside Charlie and without warning or hesitation pulled the knife out of his leg. Charlie let out a guttural growl.
"Well Charlie, do you understand your rights?"
"You're all going to burn in hell, just like that crackhead Jelly and that little nig-" Randall thrust the knife into Charlie's throat before he could finish. Charlie's breathing sounded like he was gargling mouthwash. Randall stood and watched as the light faded from Charlie's eyes until the last strained breath left his body.
Sheriff Randall bent down one more time and ripped his badge from Charlie's lifeless body. It would appear as though my hypocrisy no longer knows any bounds.
All four looked on in anticipation as the lock clicked. They had heard all the commotion from the other side of the bedroom door. It was so thick the scuffle had been well muffled. JT let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Randall walked out.
"Holy hell Sheriff, I hope this is one of those you should see the other guy scenarios," Gus said.
Randall walked out of the room, clearly in pain, past the four of them. He plopped down with an audible grunt in one of the chairs near the desk. Gus tiptoed to the doorway and snuck a peek inside.
"Dang, maybe you don't want to see the other guy." Gus commentated as he looked upon Charlie's still body. The knife still lodged in his throat, blood soaking his shirt and pooling on the floor around him.
The rest joined Gus at the door. Upon seeing what Gus saw JT decided the time to head for the hills was now. Hannah gave the dead body a wide berth on the way to the bed. She laid flat, reached under it, and grabbed Charlie's rifle. Gus gave her a raised eyebrow.
"What? He won't need it anymore. We will. I've a few words for Albright."
"I think the time to go is here, judging by the sounds from outside." The gunfire had ceased while Randall was beating on Charlie. "Asshole Charlie lying dead on Albright's floor is good enough for me," JT said. He wanted to honor Tyrone's memory and drop the vengeance for once. They were all here, all alive. They could get go. He waved everyone out. "I think we can slip out unnoticed if we go right now."
"I am afraid it is too late for that," came the warm drawl of Albright. He stood in the doorway to his office, covered in gore, his shotgun trained on JT.
Hannah turned her rifle on Albright.
"Really my dear," Albright laughed. "You are one of my flock. God..."
The loud report made JT jump and sent his ears ringing. Albright fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. Blood trickled out between his fingers. A stain of red was growing across his white shirt. His cries of pain fell on unsympathetic ears. Albright sank to his knees. Hannah walked forward and planted the barrel against Albright's temple.
"No wait Hannah, I have a better idea," JT said, rage and revenge flooding his mind. He had wanted to walk away. Now that the opportunity presented itself, it was time for some payback. "After what he's done to Tyrone, to Jelly, to you, he deserves worse. An eye for an eye, right preacher man?"
"Now JT," Randall said in shortbreaths. "Don't do anything you might regret. Either oneof you." He was over at the liquor, dabbing some on a cloth he held up to his lip.
"Oh, we won't," smiled Hannah as she took a step back. "I'm feeling much better already. In fact, I am guessing the wine you gave me was drugged. It wasn't enough I was emotionally vulnerable. How could I have been such a fool? It seems so obvious now you were never any holy man. Taking advantage of me, in the state of mind I was in."
Albright looked up at them still in shock. The lower part of his white shirt was now red as the wine he served Hannah. His fingers were worthless in stanching the flow of blood.
"I'll be back," JT said, almost running out of the room. He came back in the room, with a wicked grin on his face. In his hands was a hangman's noose.
"Buddy," Gus said, kneeling down to Albright. "I don't envy you now. I don't know what my friend has planned, but it won't be pleasant. He can be a pressure cooker and right now it looks like he has blown his top. In your words, he is about to unleash the beast. Which I guess is what I walked in on you doing to Hannah, Rev."
"Gus." Hannah stumbled over her words. "Gus, that was...it was. God, I am so embarrassed. And pissed. What was I thinking?"
"Girl," Linda said. "You're young, he's handsome and charming. Sometimes people we least suspect can pull the wool over our eyes. It worked on me for a little while, and I have a lot more experience than you. Like you said, he was might have been drugging you. Don't beat yourself up too much, he was feeding you what you wanted, and you leaned into it."
"What was that?" Hannah asked, sounding despe
rate for reasoning.
"Hope," Linda replied. "Like with most of these folks, you were hungry for hope. He spooned it out, twisting it to get whatever he wanted. Guess I'm just too practical. It didn't work on me long."
"Enough talk. Time for action." JT was feeling calm for the first time since this whole mess began.
JT slipped it over Albright's head. Albright screamed. "No, no, you can't do that. Notto me. This is not right."
"What? I thought it was okay to use this on the people who deserve it." JT tightened it around Albright's throat. He pulled at it, knocking the Reverend onto his back. Albright sputtered and grabbed at the rope.
"Go ahead, I'm staying here," Randall said, arms crossed. "I don't want to see this."
"I will stay with him, see if I can get him patched up." Linda said. "Randall follow me back downstairs. I have better medicine down there to help you."
"Suit yourselves," JT shrugged. "Even though I don't understand Sheriff. Don't you want to see justice done?"
"Sure I do. I'm not willing to become an executioner though. Albright's power is broken. Charlie's dead. That's enough for me."
"Count me out to," Gus chimed in. "I don't want to take part in any more bloodshed."
"Gus, he manipulated me into killing Tyrone. Pushed me into almost having sex with him. He is responsible for potentially ruining my life and the lives of others. Are you saying what we are doing is wrong?"
JT felt something he didn't think possible. His raged doubled, seeing the hurt on Hannah's face. This son of a bitch couldn't go up the tree fast enough.
"Darlin' all that's true. You've been hurt so much, it breaks my heart. I'm not saying I don't think he deserves to pay for his crimes. He's going to die from that wound in his belly. I'm fine with that. I'm not going to take joy in any more death."
"I don't feel like listening to a lecture. Let's get this done." JT slung the rope over his shoulder and drug Albright along behind him. Hannah followed, rifle trained on the limp, wheezing Reverend.
