The Hit Woman's Assassination Handbook

by Jane Brooke

  The man screams, gawks at his bloody stump, get’s a smile from Art. Meat cleaver dug out of the bar top, raises.

  “THUMP.”

  Art drives the blade deep into his forehead.

  Slow motion, smoke, cordite, Mandal stands, drops her 44 magnum, all most falls, her head dazed, but something is more important now.

  She grabs Jason, wants no questions, no retribution once the gun shot echos, smoke clears.

  He stand’s, she takes his arm, turns, runs towards the back door, Says. “The horses Jason.”

  At the bar, she makes eye contact with Mava.

  Mava’s eyes are sparkling and with Arvan laying on the floor, having avoided the blood spray, Billy simply watching, Mava’s eyes stare as her son and a most amazing Betty run out the door.

  Cordite in the air, smoke everywhere, gun shots echos rescinding, the entire cast gather around the bar trying to put fingers on what just has happened.

  Rubbing her sagging jaw, with a stunned Arvan looking on, Mava scrutinized the cadavers, pooled in blood, litered everywhere.

  Billy looks at the severed arm, death everywhere, says. “Betty, go figure.”

  Mava, sighs, pushes the arm off of the bar. “

  Yeah, we’ll get to that later. I want ya boys ta clean up this mess. We’ll see what’s what a bit later. Close the bar down.”

  Billy grabs a beer, sucks it down, lights a cigarette, with his Betty’s lighter. Stares at it, thinks the best he can, turns to his Ma and says.

  “Sure Ma. Come on little brother, lets get some trash bags, the ‘Saw’s All’, the mops.”

  Arvan, unnerved, no sass, nods as The Boys, no argument to their Ma, turn, walk away.

  Mava looks at Art. He is stoic, turns and looks across the carnage wondering when the next homicide will occur. She sees something, walks across the bar, avoids the blood, picks up something, walks back to Art, slaps Bettys 44 magnum on the bar.

  “I knowed there was somethin’ I like about that gal.”

  Art, a rare chuckle, Mava leans in, kisses him, says. “Come on honey bunny, let’s relax a bit and talk a bit, okay.”

  Cheek kiss for Mava, arm and arm and with her Zen Master of a meat cleaver, they stroll out the kitchens back door.

  As they love birds stroll under the big Texas moon, chit chatting how they are going to murder her sons and lost during all the mayhem, one question was never asked.

  And that question was.

  “Where in the heck was, Sue?”

  Collateral Damage

  “OUCH!”

  “Ouch!”

  “Sit still Mandal, Christ, you’re a mess.” Jason Cox whispers as he applies aloe to another wound in a long line of wounds.

  She kneels before him in the cave, fire warming them, Indian capes of colors draping their naked bodies. She tries to smile, but it hurts.

  “It hurts.”

  “Of course it hurts. You just got the crap kicked out of you...AGAIN.”

  Smiling, he shakes his head, looks at her cut eyebrow and swollen, cut lips, loving her more than he thought possible.

  “What did you think you were doing back there?”

  She blushes, says. “Planning for our future.”

  Jason giggles as he finishes dabbing aloe on her eyebrow.

  “Okay sluggo, you’re good to go.”

  She giggles and leans forward and though it hurts like hell, she kisses him on the lips, weaving her fingers into his long hair as she does.

  Then, her head spins and she feels as if she is going to lose consciousness, vomit. She fights it, his face presses against her cheek, his arms around her body; it is a feeling as she had said before, more important than her own life to her.

  “I love you, Jason.”

  HE holds her at arms length, smiles.

  “I know you do. Your quite remarkable, you know. What you did back there, perplexing. I didn’t know that there were girls like you out there.” He giggles, as does she, “You know, I love you for it. I would have been proud to have you in my unit any day.”

  Bowing her head, her chin lifts as she looks through dazed eyes at him, tears welling in her eyes.

  “I killed two men, Jason. Two.”

  “Yes you did.”

  He lifts her chin, touches her face, wipe’s a tear away, her white hair, stained in blood, which he rustles affectionately.

  “You did the right thing, Mandal. No more or less than putting a rabid dog down. War is like that. Some men need killing, some not. The men that you killed, well it was just causalities of combat, that’s all.” He smiles, “It was awesome.”

  As if a boy friend had just told her her new dress was pretty, she blushes, grows girlish, cuffs him on the cheek.

  “Oh you charmer. You certainly know how to turn a girls head.”

  He laughs as she plunges into his arms, winces in pain and, then simply allows him to hold her as she thinks.

  She has always known that birds were swifter, dolphins more graceful, bears more powerful, butterflies more beautiful than human beings. But until the moment, being with a MAN, more beautiful then all of nature leaves her stunned, simply said, ruptured within love.

  Her sojourn, though filled with pathos, insanity has been long, violent, and more than that, filled with acute pain. Now, it is all being validated, and finally she knows why she did so long ago what she had done.

  But now, what to do now so close to her dreams as she sees them in her mad mind, now it all finally coming to fruition.

  Sitting, facing him, flames from the fire pit warming them, she begins to tell him everything.

  She speaks in whispers how she has played the brothers, seduced them so they would want her, kill for her, perhaps die for her. T

  he plan now has of course changed and it is a simple one.

  Escape in her newly repaired car and forever within what time that is left with him and share one thing they both have never known, happiness.

  As she continues to tell him of her dreams, plans, he smiles in his heart, for though she is clear on everything he knows she is delusional, though he loves her deeply, for it, though of course he knows better.

  In his mind there is only one thing left to do before he vanishes from her life.

  That one thing is to make sure that the most remarkable female on the planet is safe from the madness of his brothers and the other men hunting her, now, then and forever.

  Captain Jason Cox has his own plan. One he will not share with her, ever.

  Pillow Talk

  SOMETIME BEFORE 5 AM, the Texas Sun has not risen, though it is threatening to do so.

  The sky is languorous, perhaps like her lover’s skin, purple, streaked in oranges, grays, blues. It is different than other skies and skins before them. It is odd, beautiful as her mans heart and soul is.

  He tells her that he must see the Indians, no more than an hour or so.

  They go back and forth, many times. She relents and stubornly and finally they had parted, though he had lied to her. He promised her he would be back to the compound, quickly and for her to continue her plan.

  He felt that she would be safe for after all he felt she would be received as a welcoming hero by The Cox, for if nothing else, they appreciated pure violence in its rawest form, which she is.

  Over ruling all common sense, she had reluctantly left him, promises kept, promises broken, she, and because her mind was a kiln, thought her world was finally good.

  She was happy, though he knew the end was coming; just not like she had envisioned.

  Thus, the World began to spin on its axis again and in his mind he knew that she had been a gift and he could not of asked for anything more.

  STABLING HER stallion, she quietly moves through the beginni
ngs of dawn out of the corrals and past the bar and, then onto her perch on the porch. Leaning against the motel’s wall, her eyes brush around the compound. To her surprises, though the sun has not risen as of yet, there is complete quiet.

  The quiet looms and it unnerves her.

  She seems to think that hours earlier there had been a massive blood letting. She wonders where everyone is, not to mention the stacks of corpses left behind.

  Nothing feels right, yet it is the Cox’s world, so she settles.

  Looking off at Arvans garages, her eyes light up. Her Cadillac looks newly washed, ready Betty to go, perhaps as the last life boat on the Titanic had.

  Deciding there is little left to do, and there is no time like the present, she sweeps the compound one last time. Calm prevails as she buckles up her courage, moves to her room, enter’s through the door.

  The room is dark. She thought she had left a light on for Angel. Angel yelps once, she smiles andn then a “CLICK.”

  The room illuminates from the flame of a lighter.

  A hand swings out and catches her along the side of her face hurtling her back onto her bed.

  In real pain now, from one more slap from one more man she groans, withers on the bed in real pain as the desk lamp flares.

  Her eyes clear, Billy is standing before her, flicking the lighter to flame, snapping the cap and, then, flick, flame, snap, flick, flame, snap.

  “Ya loose somethin’ darlin?”

  He throws the lighter at her, which bounces off of her forehead.

  She moans in pain, places her fingers to her face, groaning.

  “Mandal!”

  He flaps her open wallet at her. “Beckwith.”

  A welt growing on her forehead, she tries to feel the weight of her 44. She moans, remembering that she dropped in the bar.

  Not feeling well, not at all, she forces a smile, her only weapon left besides the 38 and knife in her boot, which she could not struggle out before Billy would be on her.

  Dots of light, spinning before her eyes, she bucks it up, smiles again.

  “Billy...Honey...WOW...You scared me. I was just gonna come looking for you...I...”

  “SHUT UP.” He snarls.

  She sees the disgust, hatred, lust in his face, does not blink.

  She knows what’s coming.

  Knowing she needs some tough love, he balls his fists, snorts, takes a step. Instantly, Angel, from the shadows, attacks his cuff leg, yelping, growling and chewing away as she does.

  Billy looks down, violently shaking her off, sending her flying against the wall.

  “YELP.”

  Angel goes silent.

  Hovering over her, Billy snarls. “Ya pretty smart, ain’t ya” What a ya think? Ole Billy was dumb or somethin?” Jest goin’ ta California ta OPEN a boutique or such, Huh?”

  He moves, rips his hands into her bombers collar, lifts her like shes air, slaps his eyes to hers, grins, seethes. “I gonna fuck ya, then I gonna kill ya.”

  He slashes her back. She goes air born, bounces off the wall, crumbles to the floor. Moaning, her eyes press to the floor, staring under the bed at her stuff, grinding pain in shoot’s slashing her body.

  Blood, seeping into her eyes, she feel the pain in her nose, it is broken.

  She sees his cowboy boots and, then the 38, sticks of dynamite, cans of bulls eyes, cash nailed to the under carriage of the wooden box frame of the bed.

  She struggles to her knees.

  He moves to her, hesitates as she, seemingly beaten, literally, throws her hands out to him, blood seeping out of her eyebrow, lips trembling, she is not play acting, and says.

  “Please, Billy, do...don’t hurt me anymore. Pl...Please. I...I told you, I...I was coming to see you...So...so we could go...”

  She leans down, vomits, food, bile, blood from her broken nose on to the floor.

  She straightens, swallows more blood. Some where the last smile she has on earth appeares on her lips.

  “So we...we could do what we talked about...Please...don’t hit me anymore...I....I love you, Billy.”

  Billy, off kilter, tries to digest her grift, thinks upon it, remembers her naked cunt on the pool table; moves towards her.

  His fingers wrap around her slender throat; he squeezes. As if she were filled with helium, she rises, face straining, eyes popping, veins bulging in her forehead. Blues to dilated blues, he says, with a wild smile.

  “Ya piece a shit. Billy gonna show ya what’s gonna open up fer ya.”

  More humor from Billy.

  Suspending her like shes a rag doll, he throws her on the bed. She bounces once, moans as her legs flop off the end of the bed, boots banging on the wooden floor.

  Unable to defend her self any longer, she knows now that she has failed within the only thing that has ever meant anything to her.

  He’s on her, no time to do her boots, he rips her jeans open, slashes them down along her ankles. She is exposed, white naked, he leers at the prize, her cunt, almost drooling, savagery, lust she sees insanity in his eyes.

  He unbuckles his jeans, lets them flop to his ankles. His dick is huge, engorged, she remembers the pounding Sue got, feels he won’t be merciful like that.

  Eyes close, her eyes, now knowing she will be dead soon.

  “I’m gonna fuck that tight ass a yers. Then I’m gonna kill ya.”

  Nothing left now then to go out with some class, she gurgles through blood. “I want that Billy, real bad.”

  Furrowing his eyebrows, her words cause him a moment of reprieve. Refocused, he grins, leers, says. “Ya got it, Betty.”

  He moves to the bed, slashes her to her stomach, gawking at her tiny ass while she moans, seems to be giggling.

  He don’t understand and he don’t care what she’s sayin’. His dick is ready to explode.

  He lowers his dick to her rectum, places the tip to it and, then rams it in.

  She screams in pain, her entire body shatters, undulates, as she bangs her fists on the bed, moans, more screams into the pillow. She is impaled, dry fucked, done, dead, as he doesn’t move, just breathing hard, loving every fucking moment of it as he hammers her through her screams.

  For ten minutes he sodomizes her limp body as she moans in what she feels are her final death throws.

  “LEAVE HER BE, BILLY.” A cold, deadly voice racks into his ears.

  Turning his head, he looks to the right.

  Standing at the door, is Arvan.

  His face is full hatred on. In his hand is his 357 Magnum.

  “Off a her, NOW, Billy.”

  Billy, no fear, no nothin’, it is Arvan after all, his human punching bag, grins, says. “Ya done gone fat on me, lil brother? Get the fuck outta here.”

  Mandal, feeling Billy’s massive cock in her ass, pressed against her stomach, staring at Arvan, she actually loves him, almost insanely starts to giggle, as she some how thinks.

  Thank fucking god, plan # 1, what ever the fucking number it was has finally clicked in.

  “Ya done pushin’ me, bro. Get away from Betty, ya here.”

  Stare down, Arvan, Billy.

  Mandal, giggles, thinks.

  What took you so fucking long. Get your brothers dick out of my ass, please. More giggles.

  Arvan, bullet eyes, solid intent in them, holding all bad in them, pulls the hammer back.

  “CLICK.”

  Billy shaking his head, smiles, evil grin as his dick swooshes out of his Betty ass.

  She groans, as he stands, pulls up his Levi’s, bends, pulls an 8 inch knife out of his boot and, then smiles back at his little brother.

  “I’m gonna cut yer balls off, then feed I’m ta this whore.”

  “No ya ain’t brother.”

&nbs
p; Arvan lifts the 357 magnum and making up for a life time a pain, pulls the trigger.

  “KABOOM.”

  The magnum bucks, flames, smoke spew out of the barrel as the hollow point detonates into Billy massive shoulder, blowing right through, spitting blood out onto the back window behind him. Billy slams back, spins, stands and reeling he gawks at the blood, then at Arvan.

  “YA done shot me.”

  Grinning, Arvan aims the 357 at his brother’s chest. “That, I surely did.”

  They lock eyes, Cane and Able, finally fulfilling their prophecy along a Texas Desert.

  “KABOOM, KABOOM, KABOOM.” The magnum explodes.

  Fire, cordite, the bullets, in a neat little circle rip Billy’s chest apart as he thunder claps against the back wall, falls on his butt, boots spread out in front of him, leering, instantly dead.

  Like in the ole West, Arvan comically blows the smoke from the barrel, tucks the 357 into his waist band and quickly moves to his Betty, who is suddenly feeling better.

  She crushes into his arms, for real, really, really, glad to see him.

  Weeping, moaning, she gushes. “Oh Arvan.”

  Real weepers. No play actin’. Boo Hoo, Hoo.

  “Oh darling, you are so.” Sniffle, sniffle, sniffle, “So brave...Tha...thank you...is my Cadillac fixed.”

  Are there no depths to her depravity?

  “Betty, oh Betty, are ya okay, darlin?”

  For real, she begins to sob as he holds her tenderly.

  Everyone loves her again.

  “There, there, Betty. I knowed...Listen, it’s all good.” He says like his brother never had his cock stuffed in her ass.

  Her heart actually nudges, feeling his kindness.

  “Yer old Caddy, shes ready. We can geet in an hour. Ole Arvan, he done gonna geet some serious money.”

  His plan fer his dear ole Ma is set in his noggin.

  “We gonna have that life we was talkin’ about. Da ya still want that, Betty?”

  He backs off, lovingly pushes some weepers from her cheeks, looks at her beat on face and goes cosmic on her.

  “Nobody gonna hurt ya no more. Ya still want Arvan, don’t ya?”