The Sweet Taste (Perry County)

by Roy F. Chandler

  Gorse cursed heavily and thoroughly.

  Turning to Jello, I went on. "I don't suppose Spider mentioned how he came over to my place and hid in the briars, just watching what I was doing. I'll bet he didn't tell about the trip wires he's got strung along the ridge to tell if I came over.

  "Hell, Gorse, I've been keeping an eye on that pit out there since he dug it last spring."

  I concluded for a bit. "It's all written down and sent out, Jello. Not to local guys. That would be dumb. One's in Virginia, and the other is up in Alaska."

  There is an old saying, "Beware of the cunning of the unintelligent." Spider Seeber fit that admonition.

  Mean and uneducated, but a natural survivor, Seeber believed in little and instinctively doubted almost everything. His snort of contempt immediately followed my words.

  He spoke to Gorse. "Know what I think, Jello? I think Perry just spilled his guts. I don't think he knows any more than he's said."

  My innards chilled even more.

  Spider went on, feeling his way, letting his instincts form his thoughts. "Fact is, Jello, he didn't write anything down, and he didn't get any helpers.

  "Hell, I've known this guy all my life. He's a loner, Jello. My feeling is he followed you around, figuring to get even for the lumps you hung on him. So, he saw us together and got interested."

  Spider struck hard. "Look, Jello, if he intended doing us in, he would have already told the police about that girl, and we would be busy claiming we were innocent.

  "But not old Gene. He just held it close to his chest, didn't tell a soul, and now he's dumping it all, just hoping to save his skin for a minute or two longer."

  Oh man, how right Seeber was. The guy should have been a private eye. I tried not to betray how his words struck home.

  Gorse asked, "But how'd he know about the girl?"

  Spider had no certain answer. He said again, "Somebody knew. We'll get Gene to tell us." He smirked, "You will tell us, won't you, Perry?"

  I wanted them off the subject. I had no doubts Jello Gorse would enjoy bending me until I broke.

  I swiped sweat from my face and bluffed on.

  "I don't know anything, Seeber? Like I don't know that Jello rode in here at ten this morning and came out with that van, with you right behind?

  "How about your climbing the hill by the Newport bridge with your radio so you could call those bikers speeding by. Oh, I know a lot of things, Seeber, and my people know more than enough of it."

  Spider's head was rage red. Discovering he had been followed and watched without even suspecting, badly wounded Seeber's ego. This time I had misjudged, and I was going to pay for it.

  Seeber stepped back and spoke almost softly.

  "Perry's been spouting the stuff he wants us to hear. Soften him up a little, Jello. Then we'll ask him what we want to know."

  +++

  Chapter 14

  I have always heard how even a cornered rat will fight with incredible fury. Trapped against the sofa, sitting on a dead man, I fit the rat's description. Adrenalin surged, and I began experiencing life in slow motion.

  Jello Gorse floated around the money-heaped table as lightly as a ballet dancer. His red-rimmed eyes flamed with an ugly promise of agony and injury, and I saw clearly the satisfaction suffusing Spider Seeber's angered features.

  If I could have crawled away or leaped anywhere, I would have exploded into action, but I was blocked by Gorse's bulk and Seeber's ready gun. I curled into a defensive ball, fiddle-string tight, and ready to lash out. I probably resembled the cornered rat I thought about.

  Jello's banana-fingered hands reached for me and I did explode. Coiled like a snake, I drove a boot with utmost power squarely below Jello Gorse's heart. It was a tremendous shot. I could not have hoped for better. Trained fighters drop and are counted out from lesser wallops to that exact spot.

  My foot sunk in a little, then jarred, as though I had encountered a concrete wall. Jello Gorse grunted at the impact. He hesitated an almost undetectable instant, then he had me.

  My mind reeled. A blow that should have dropped any man, Jello Gorse ignored as he would a pin prick; with a sweep of an arm, Gorse wiped my extended leg aside. The force of it twisted me sideward, and he latched onto me.

  I was instantly airborne. For an extended moment of astonished resignation, I flew across the dining room. I struck a wall, shoulder first and crumpled in on myself. A too familiar agony enveloped my long weakened side, and new pain slammed through what I expected could be a broken collarbone.

  As if from a distance, I heard Seeber's giggle. Then Jello's musky odor enveloped me. Fingers so large they nearly encircled crushed my throat and neck. With fading vision, I bid the world goodbye.

  Gorse's other hand gripped my crotch, and I had new agony so soul searing it blotted all else. Squeezing mercilessly, Jello Gorse hoisted me, two-handed, high above his head.

  Pain so elemental it denied unconsciousness devoured me. Gorse's grip on my throat prevented sound, but I screamed within, feeling myself dying—even as Jello again flung me away.

  The ceilings of Spider's old house were high, and Gorse threw me from well over his head. Threw? More accurately, he hurled my tortured body downward, as hard as his monstrous strength permitted.

  I struck flat, unresisting, but with terrible force, squarely in the center of the money loaded table. Beneath the impact, the wood shattered and joints split. I settled almost gently amid the wreckage of table and scattered wealth.

  I lay where I landed, wave-like agonies sweeping through me. Where was Jello? His next attack would finish me, and I really didn't care. Searing pain paralyzed me, and I would have eagerly accepted death to escape it.

  Hearing returned first, with a saw-like rasping that I discovered was my own breathing. Then I heard laughter. Seeber—it would be Seeber.

  An eye worked, and I saw Gorse standing in the corner from where he had hurled me. He breathed deeply, his vast chest rising and falling from effort. The terrible fists were again planted on his hips. Gorse rested from his super-human effort of heaving Gene Perry like a sack of fertilizer.

  Until Spider nudged me ungently with his foot, I dared not attempt moving, "Get up, Perry, back where you were." He snickered that hateful snicker. "You looked comfortable there."

  I tried because I couldn't resist. My body moved me as far as the sofa, but I couldn't get up on it.

  Involuntarily my knees bent to my chest, as though to shield my ravaged privates. Pain tears ran from my eyes, and groans and whimpers passed unheeded through my teeth, which were clenched so tightly they should have cracked.

  Seeber said, "Good job, Jello. Gene'll tell us whatever we want to know now, won't you old friend?"

  I would probably have nodded, but I hurt too much to try.

  Seeber spoke sharply. "Look up here, Perry. I want you to see this."

  I dragged my eyes upward and got him in focus. Only one eye was working. I mopped at the inoperative side and cleared its vision, blood running down my forehead, I supposed.

  Spider asked solicitously, "You seeing clear, Gene?"

  This time I nodded. Spider still had the pistol pointed at me, and Jello remained near the far wall. My guess was that Spider was going to shoot me in the foot or elbow or somewhere. Good old Seeber wouldn't want Jello to appear meaner than he was.

  Spider Seeber grinned evilly at my nod. He straightened a little and turned toward Jello. Gorse never took his pig eyes off of me; anxious to begin again I assumed.

  Spider Seeber aimed quickly, but carefully, and shot Jello Gorse squarely in the chest.

  He shot him three times. Each bullet puffed material from Jello's leather vest. The explosions drifted dust from the ceiling, and Spider's pistol bounced high in recoil.

  Curled almost against the old couch with my head against a dead man's ribs, I saw the bullets strike in a wide triangle. The first hit dead center, squarely on Gorse's sternum. The second was a little left and the third more to
the right. One went completely through and spattered the wall's ancient plaster.

  There was no chance of an armored vest or only disabling wounds. Any of the three shots would have done the job. Seeber just made sure.

  I suppose my mind reeled, or I experienced astonishment, but I was not aware of it. A part of me had always recognized that one of the two would surely kill the other.

  Another murder changed nothing for me.

  Jello Gorse took the hits without apparent change of expression. Perhaps he, too, realized Spider had just gotten him first.

  Gorse's hand rose to touch his chest. His head dropped as though to examine his wounds. Then Jello's massive legs buckled, and he slid silently down the wall, leaving a long blood smear to trace his route. Jello's hand fell limply, striking the wood floor with an audible and dead sounding thump.

  +++

  Realization was slow for me. I wasn't coming through like the hero of a paperback novel. That one of my deadly enemies was dead failed to charge my spirit or to turn me alert, glittery eyed, and dangerous.

  One willing killer pointing a .357 magnum pistol was just as serious as it had been before. Spider Seeber had to get rid of me, and he would enjoy doing it.

  Still, Jello Gorse had got it, too. A slight tug of in satisfaction worked through and some of the agony was easing in my groin. I sensed that Jello's grip had not permanently crushed anything, although within a few minutes it wouldn't matter anyway.

  Spider was taking no chances with me. He stayed well away, his revolver still aimed at my middle. Of course he had to boast a little. I had no choice but to listen.

  Seeber gloated. "How'd you like that, Perry? Surprise you a little?" He chuckled, a nerve-grating keyed-up cackle. "Guess it surprised old Jello a little, too."

  Spider cleared his throat noisily and looked about his dining room. "Ain't this a hell of a mess, Perry? Money and dead bodies all scattered around, hard to believe an hour or so of cleaning will get rid of every trace."

  His pistol unwavering, Seeber picked up a packet of bills. "This money will take me far and wide, Perry."

  Spider's eyes again roamed. "This old place has seen the last Seeber. Maybe I'll go out to California or down to Mexico." He tossed the bills aside and his voice was triumphant. "I've got it made, Perry."

  Spider should have shut me up, shot me dead, and got on with his burying, but the sweet taste of revenge was strong in him. Seeber wanted to gloat, to savor his triumph.

  I was glad to hear him. The longer he talked, the longer I stayed alive.

  All creatures shared the drive to hang onto the last possible moment of life. Though ripped, gutted, or hopelessly savaged, everything fought to live for just another pointless instant.

  I was no exception. I had never expected SWAT teams to burst in, all camouflaged and automatic weaponed. The earth would not open and suck Seeber away. Spider's bullets would take me. Gene Perry hadn't long, but I had no wish to hurry the final moment.

  Spider said, "I had this pistol layin' on the backhoe seat. Figured to use it on Gorse once he had hauled all this dead meat out to the pit.

  "Hell, I could feel that fat fool eyeballing me, wondering just when he ought to break my neck. Jello Gorse wasn't never no match for old Spider."

  Seeber got more intense, putting his attention right on me. 'You weren't much either. Perry. I thought a number of times of how easy it'd be to put you in alongside the rest. Then, there you were, hiding in the brush, delivering yourself just like a Domino's pizza. You just made it all complete, Perry."

  Behind Spider Seeber, something moved. Instinctively, my eyes roamed, and only belatedly was I able to move them on, as though my glance had been pointless.

  Impossible—but he was. Slowly, like an inflating hot air balloon, Gorse was coming off the floor. This my mind could take. A sudden hope stabbed like a beam of light through my black despair.

  Shot through and through, Jello Gorse wouldn't be much, but there could be an instant when Spider Seeber would be distracted. That would have to be my chance.

  Not too soon, I wasn't ready. I spoke quickly, to hold Seeber's attention, and began laboriously shifting position.

  My voice was hoarse with strain and pain, but I said, "My lawyers will file my statement, Spider. Then the law will be after you like flies on cow flop."

  Spider snorted, "I didn't buy that bull, Perry. You didn't write down anything.

  "Anyway, I couldn't care less. Hell, you think I'm going to stay Spider Seeber?

  "What I'm going to do is leave all my stuff here. I'm going to load Gorse's Harley into my truck and take off. Somewhere out west I'll sell the truck and that'll be the last ever seen of Spider Seeber. I'll be Gorse and ride the Harley till I get tired of it. Then I'll sell it for parts."

  Behind Seeber, the mountain began to loom. Gorse seemed barely able to move, but he was all the way up.

  Come on, Jello, come on.

  What irony, rooting for Jello Gorse. I needed a minute more. If Jello's murderous hands could get on Seeber before Spider could start shooting . . . man, I would have a real chance.

  I sought a stunner and came up with it. I forced ruefulness, still getting my reluctant legs under me, and said, "Damn it, Spider. We could have been friends."

  Seeber's eyeballs grew in amazement. His gun actually wobbled a little. Spider's laughter bordered hysterical, and he said, "Friends, you and me, Perry? Why, I'd rather...."

  The mountain moved. Soundlessly, his step still dancer-light, Jello slid close behind Spider Seeber. It was ghostly to see. Blood ran redly from a corner of Jello's mouth and mixed with his beard. The pig eyes bored down on the unsuspecting Seeber like those of some ancient and vengeful god.

  Seeber's nose twitched as he spoke, as though some Gorse essence touched him. Then Jello's thick arm slid like a monster snake, past Seeber's shoulder to Spider's extended gun. Gorse's immense fist enfolded Seeber's gun and hand as though they were a child's.

  Spider reacted far too late. The attack was incomprehensible. No man could live with his heart and lungs blasted by .357 magnum bullets.

  To both Seeber and me, Jello Gorse had risen from the dead.

  Spider fought. He struggled first to free his gun, but Gorse's grip challenged a machinist's vise.

  Before Spider could do more, Gorse's other arm encircled Seeber's body. They grappled, almost soundlessly, straining for advantage, for the moment, neither gaining it.

  Jello Gorse wasn't as he had been. He moved in slow motion and effort spurted more blood from his lips.

  Forever, the pistol remained pointing at me, and I scrabbled to escape its line of fire.

  Then Gorse's strength took hold. Spider's features turned desperate, and the gun began turning away. The vises that were Gorse's fingers closed remorselessly, and Spider screeched in pain. The gun fired into a wall, and Seeber's wrist bent back on itself.

  I heard Spider's wrist break. I think I heard his fingers snapping like dry sticks. There was no doubt about Seeber's agonized screams. It set my teeth on edge and hurried my effort to get moving.

  Yet, the sight held me. Like massive steel cables, Jello's arms closed ponderously around Spider's chest. They tightened with machine-like inevitability, crushing the skinny Seeber against the iron of Gorse's giant body.

  Spider's voice cut off. His mouth gaped, a drooling horror. Seeber's entire head reddened and appeared to swell as Gorse closed off air and circulation. Spider's eyes bulged impossibly. Then his bones began to break.

  Ribs, chest, finally the spine, I could not tell exactly. Jello Gorse simply crushed Spider Seeber to death.

  I was up, still bent a little double, but at least ambulatory.

  Gorse held Spider's limp and lifeless body tight against him, as though making absolutely sure. I began to edge around, and the red pits that were Gorse's eyes turned to me.

  Maybe I should have stayed still and just hoped Gorse would fall over before he remembered about me, but I didn't think of that. B
ehind Jello, doors beckoned, and for the first time since I had turned to see Spider and his gun, I believed I had a chance.

  It wasn't to be that easy. I could barely function, and Jello wasn't through yet.

  Gorse's lips twisted, and he shoved Spider Seeber straight at me. It was a hell of a shove. Seeber's dead body crossed the broken up table and slammed me like an NFL blocking back. I sledged into a wall and went down as though the floor had given way.

  Seeber's carcass lay partly across my legs, but hope was returning strength to me. I kicked him away and got onto my knees.

  It wasn't all bad. Jello too had fallen. Gorse was still fading. If I could hold out for just a little longer, he would surely collapse. Wouldn't he?

  A weapon. I needed a weapon. My eyes sought the gun, but I didn't see it.

  Gorse was getting up. Slowly, as though he weighed a ton, Jello was again gaining his feet. Blood saturated his beard and his bullet-punctured vest. His breathing was loud and leaky, like rapidly pumped bellows. Even he couldn't last long without air, but all Gorse needed was one more grip, and he would do to me as he had done to Spider.

  Where was that damned gun? Nowhere! I snatched up a table leg and used it to pry myself erect. Almost erect. My crotch screamed, my ribs squalled, and my collarbone grated, but at least both eyes stayed clear.

  A thirty inch wooden club is one fine weapon. It should be used two handed, the way a Japanese sword is wielded. That, of course, is better done if your body is not broken and your most tender parts have not been squeezed into agonies.

  Jello and I faced each other, perhaps six feet apart. He was dying, and I was trying not to. The advantage was mine. I should have been exultant. This was the moment I had sought. I was too sick and too scared to appreciate it.

  I tried to go around him, but Jello shifted to meet me. The last of his light-footedness was gone. Gorse moved leadenly, but he moved.