Fat Assassins (The Fat Adventure Series)

by Fowler, Marita

  He popped the latches on the black case and spun it towards us. We scooted closer as he raised the lid revealing two gleaming Desert Eagles nestled together in grey Styrofoam padding. Two clips and silencers displayed separately in the case.

  “Ohhhhhhh,” we both exhaled in awe.

  “I want that one!” I said, grabbing one of guns, clip and silencer. I assembled the gun and shoved it into my holster.

  Salvo and Ulyssa stared at me.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Dang. You assembled that gun quick!” Salvo answered. “You sure you never used guns before?”

  “Ha. You know my parents! I’d never even seen guns in real life until today,” I said, caressing the gun with my right hand.

  Ulyssa pulled the other gun from the case following my lead. “This does seem like a better gun. Does it come with the case? That would make it really easy to transport.”

  “I tell ya what... you buy those and I’ll throw in the case, holsters and bullets for free.”

  “We’ll take ‘em.”

  We had just officially purchased guns from an underground dealer.

  “Oh, afore I ferget... never, ever use autobon ammo in this gun. It travels too fast and burns too hot.”

  We nodded like we understood his warning.

  Salvo started digging around in a filing cabinet looking for two full cases of bullets. Feeling empowered by the guns, we continued to strut around like a couple of gangsters. Ulyssa wandered over to look at some of the non-traditional ammo in one of the other showcases, while I strolled over to the display cabinet near the bigger guns. I immediately recognized the gun laying on the glass top.

  I grabbed it and spun around imitating Tony Montana.

  “Say hello to my little friend!” I yelled, in my best Cuban accent.

  My right arm cramped under the weight of the gun, curling my finger around the trigger.

  Fire exploded from the end of the gun as I spun in a circle, propelled by the force of the recoil. The noise was deafening as the bullets bounced around the walls like a real life pinball game. A bullet clipped my shoulder making me fire a final round before dropping the gun and filling the room with silence. Ulyssa threw both hands straight in the air dropping something from her left hand.

  Tink. Tink. Tink. A grenade hit the ground at Ulyssa’s feet and bounced across the floor.

  Salvo uncurled his hands off his head in time to see the grenade roll to a stop under Willie Pete. It took him a split second to assess the situation with Ulyssa standing there, hands in the air with the pin dangling from her right thumb.

  “Run!” Salvo screamed, grabbing a surrendering Ulyssa trying to shove her towards the bunker door.

  I stood there frozen in shock from my bullet wound when he yelled at me.

  “Move! That’s a live shell!”

  His panicked yell penetrated my trauma and I chased him out the exit.

  I was two steps from freedom when an explosion reverberated the bunker and sent me flying out the door. I landed face down on the wet grass next to Ulyssa.

  Salvo slammed the blast door trying to contain the fiery chaos. I rolled onto my back staring at the furious bunker trying to shake loose from the ground. He paced in front of the bunker mumbling to himself.

  My shoulder ached from the bullet wound and I felt a cool breeze on my back where the fire had burned holes in my shirt. I checked the rest of my body for damage. Confident all the damage was superficial, I leaned towards a soot covered Ulyssa.

  “Go start the car,” I whispered, “At least you’ll get away if he decides to kill us.”

  Ulyssa nodded and crawled off.

  Microwave popcorn sounds rattled inside the bunker covering the noise of her opening and closing the car door.

  Kaboom!

  The explosion shook the trees like pom-poms.

  Salvo collapsed to his knees crying, “The grenade launchers!”

  I scooted backwards like a crab scrambling away from danger.

  In the distance, I heard the trusty Pinto start up making me crab walk a little faster. Salvo’s shock kept him locked in the kneeling position completing ignoring us. I jumped in the car while Ulyssa was pulling away, dragging my right foot down on the gravel driveway before I could finally pull it to safety and shut the door. I figured that I had just tested the true limits of our friendship by almost killing us in the bunker, so I sat quietly waiting for Ulyssa to talk first. The fragrance of gunpowder and smoke was so overwhelming, I cracked my window to avoid gagging.

  “What were you thinking?” she asked, her voice very controlled and quiet.

  “My arm cramped up! I think it was all the gun practice today.”

  She looked away from the road to stare at me asking, “Seriously?”

  I nodded and she started laughing. “We are the worst assassins ever! You just blew up the largest weapons stash in West Virginia and almost killed us because of a charlie horse!”

  I pointed at her bloodied knuckles and the grenade pin still wrapped around her right thumb. “I think I had some help, thank you very much!”

  “I was just trying not to get shot by the worst Al Pacino impersonator I’ve ever seen!”

  “We got some pretty awesome guns though, didn’t we?” I asked, still excited about my newfound shooting talent.

  “Yup. Hopefully we’ll get to use them before Salvo kills us!”

  “He’ll have to wait in line!”

  I looked at my image in the bathroom mirror and felt hysterical giggles surfacing. The ends of my hair were scorched and my face was streaked black like I was special forces. “It looks like we’ve seen some serious combat time.”

  Ulyssa sat me down on the edge of the bathtub and started trimming the scorched ends off my hair, so I wouldn’t look like Delta Force when we went to Buck’s for karaoke.

  “Do you think Salvo will be okay?”

  Snip. Snip.

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to pay him for the guns and stuff. Maybe we should give him a little extra for the damage. Maybe $1,800 per gun, plus an extra $1,400, to make it even.”

  Snip. Snip.

  “We can’t really afford it, but hopefully it’ll save our lives. We’ll take the money with us tonight. Just in case we see him at the bar. Maybe it’ll keep him from killing us on sight,” she said, moving out of the way, so I could see my new haircut in the mirror. She’d done a great job, it looked like a salon cut. The bangs were cut at an angle where one part hung slightly over my right eye.

  “I’m loving the bangs,” I said, fluffing my hair. “I’m sorry about almost killing you!”

  “Me too. It’s okay. It’s all part of the job. Besides I’m getting used to it! Ready for our first social night of our criminal hood?”

  I stripped down for my shower, feeling vulnerable without my gun. It felt like a comfortable old friend when I slipped it back on over my shirt and covered it with a black leather jacket. I turned in the mirror a couple times to make sure the bulge wasn’t noticeable. Ulyssa chose a black peacoat to cover up her gun. We both wore black slacks, tops and comfortable shoes since we didn’t know when we’d run into trouble again.

  I’m not going to get caught running from the devil in heeled boots.

  Mitsy and Sam were already two beers into the night when we walked into Buck’s. We grabbed two drinks and made our way over to join them.

  “Hey y’all!” Mitsy said.

  “Hey!” Ulyssa responded.

  “Y’all look different tonight. Is that a new outfit?”

  Ulyssa shook her head. We adjusted our seats where we were seated with our backs against the wall and a view of the entire bar. We unbuttoned our jackets, but left them on to cover the guns.

  “Hmmm. Something is definitely different.”

  “I got my hair cut,” I offered.

  “That must be it! It looks really cute.”

  “Thanks.”

  Bubba gave us a wave from the DJ stand, where a beefy, blond was hov
ering near him.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, taking a drink from my Diet Coke.

  “I guess you didn’t hear the news yet. Bubba went and got himself a trucker girl friend,” Sam announced. “I think her name is Becky. I reckon he don’t mind strong women.”

  We all turned to look at tiny Bubba wrapped around the big blond.

  “I thought he was gay!” Ulyssa said.

  I looked at him a little closer. He was wearing horn-rimmed glasses, a maroon cashmere sweater, and designer jeans. I’d never really paid attention before. I just knew he didn’t look like the other 90% of Nitro men, who just alternated colors of their flannels shirts and picked between jeans and overalls. Johnny was the only Nitro man who dressed as nice as Bubba, but his raw masculinity dispelled any question of his sexual preference.

  “Maybe he’s metro,” Ulyssa said.

  “They seem really into each other,” I added, as Becky sat down on her folding chair, staring at Bubba with big doe eyes. Everyone murmured their agreement on the love birds.

  “Where’s Mitchell?” Sam asked Mitsy.

  “He’s working on his car. He’s got a big race tomorrow night. Y’all want to go?” Mitsy asked everyone.

  “What time does the race start?” Ulyssa asked. “We have to go to my mother’s for dinner.”

  “The prelims start at 7PM, but he don’t race until 830PM.”

  “We should be able to make it. It’ll be a good excuse to get away from my family. Are you going Sam?”

  Sam swallowed her tequila shot before responding. “Is there going to be a demolition derby? I love watching cars smash.”

  Mitsy shrugged her shoulders.

  “Hey, speaking of violence...” I interjected, “What happened with you and George yesterday? I heard that Minnie called the cops.”

  She shook her head saying, “Nothing too exciting. He was following me around the store, glaring at me. I finally confronted him in the bathroom hardware isle and asked him what the hell his problem was... he started yelling at me calling me a bitch and accusing me of poisoning him cause I turned his pee blue. He kept screaming in my face, so when I’d had enough I smashed him in the face with a wooden toilet seat. He’s so damn awnry that it didn’t knock him out, just stunned him for a minute. He picked up two toilet brushes and started hitting me with them. That’s about the time Deputy Hodde came up and put a stop to the fight. Luckily he witnessed George’s assault, so he was able to use that to talk George out of suing Wal-Mart. Said something about a counter suit which would involve big city lawyers. It scared George enough that he just stomped off with a big ol’ welt on his forehead.”

  See, wrastlin ain’t fake! I joked to myself.

  It felt good to relax with friends, even if I was the designated driver and Ulyssa was the one unwinding with Barcadi. Johnny was seated on the opposite side of the bar with Rob and Tamera, but he kept staring at Ulyssa. I bet the drunker she got, the closer he’d get. I made a mental note not to leave her alone with him for too long. The town snobs were seated at their elite table, sipping wine. I was surprised to see Jennifer, the librarian, sitting with them though. She was too down to earth to be associated with the snotty circles. I was finishing up the crowd inventory, when I caught two bodies wedged into a dark corner by the bathrooms. I squinted my eyes trying to discern the shapes.

  Rick and Emma again! Hadn’t they learned their lesson yet?

  I guess we’d just increased Rick’s chances of survival by blowing up a good portion of Salvo’s stockpile, but it was still risky. The bar noise abruptly quieted making it easy to hear Ulyssa’s panicked whisper.

  “Damn!” she said, fumbling with her purse. “It’s Salvo!”

  She extracted the five thousand dollars and slipped it into her pocket. Everyone was watching Rick and Emma, but I was watching Salvo as he walked up to the bar.

  Handing Buck a twenty he said, “I’d like a glass of Wild Turkey on the rocks, please.”

  “Coming right up,” Buck chimed, grabbing the bottom shelf whiskey and pouring it over the glass of ice. He shoved the glass of booze and twenty over to Salvo adding, “On the house. It’s been a while since I’ve seen ya in here, glad to have your business back.”

  “‘Preciate it,” he said, raising the glass at Buck before taking a sip.

  He turned and started walking straight towards our table never breaking eye contact with me. I felt my heart rate increase with each step he took closer to the table.

  I was one heartbeat away from a heart attack, when Bob (Tweedle Dee) ran through the bar door shouting, “We followed Rick here and waited in the parking lot. Thirty minutes later she showed up.” Billy, the other Tweedle, was the next one through the door following Bob’s every move with an ancient video camera hoisted on his shoulder. Sheila Cutweiler was the next person through the door, the apparent audience for Bob’s speech.

  “The tracking device we planted on him is beaconing from back here,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.

  This bizarre scene was enough to get Salvo’s attention. He stopped mid-step and watched the amateur TV crew at work. Everyone else in the bar was preparing for the brawl that was bound to follow, once Salvo figured out what was going on. A couple folks even decided it was a good time to leave. The rest of us sat transfixed as the real life drama unfolded.

  “They’re right there!” Bob exclaimed, pointing a handheld spotlight towards the two shadowy figures in the corner and Billy panned the camera to the hidden couple.

  A collective gasp reverberated across the entire bar as Bob illuminated Rick and Emma. They sat intertwined and frozen staring at the light like rats with their glowing, beady eyes staring out from the darkness.

  “You whore!” Sheila screamed, as she lunged at Emma grabbing handfuls of hair.

  Salvo emitted a guttural growl, dropping into a predatory stance.

  I caught a glimpse of Buck on the phone behind the bar, already calling the cops.

  Salvo took his first steps toward Rick, slowly circling to the left cutting off the exit. His movements were slow and deliberate, moving forward like a lion hunting prey. Billy was so focused on filming the women’s fight, he was oblivious to the fact he was the only thing standing between Salvo and Rick. The attack was sudden and precise. Salvo charged forward crushing the cameraman between him and Rick as they slammed against the wall. Billy’s rotund belly created such a buffer that it prevented Salvo from landing a solid punch on Rick’s face. A frustrated Salvo struggled to shove Billy aside, but Rick kept using him as a shield. This tug-o-war caused the camera to fly off Billy’s shoulder and clatter to the ground near the bathroom doors.

  Bob stood immobile unsure how to help. Another loud yelp from Billy spurred him into action. I watched in fascination as he rooted around in his left cargo pant leg for something. Remembering their police brutality at Wal-Mart, I wondered who he’d taze first.

  But it wasn’t a taser he pulled from his pocket.

  He stuck his arm in the air and yelled, “Anarchy!” as he pulled the pin and tossed it in the middle of the fight pit.

  White smoke started rising from the floor. Salvo, Rick, Sheila, Emma, and Billy all collapsed to the floor, coughing and puking.

  My eyes and throat started burning.

  Buck shoved everyone out the door saying, “Get out! It’s tear gas!”

  Becky tossed Bubba over her shoulder and carried him out through the door as the rest of us crawled to the fresh air. The entire bar was laid out on the gravel trying to recover from the tear gas as the sirens wailed form the emergency vehicles nearing the bar. The Tweedles and warring couples hadn’t made it out the door yet, but Buck assured us that they’d be okay. Just a little sick from the gas.

  Ulyssa and I struggled to our feet, trying to escape before the situation got any worse.

  The flashing police lights reflected off the windshield as we exited the parking lot. I caught Deputy Hodde’s eye and gave him a half hearted smile and wave. I might as we
ll start getting used to the fact that the dangerous life of a criminal was a lonely one.

  God, I want a pint of New York Superfudge Chunk!

  Sundays were usually reserved for cleaning house and doing laundry, so it was declared a no-shower day. It seemed kinda silly to put all the work into showering if we were going to spend the whole day inside the trailer getting dirty all over again. But, since we were going to Mrs. Grant’s for dinner, it was only a half no-shower day. We spent the morning lounging on the couch waiting on the washer and dryer to signal a finished load. We washed the clothes from last night by themselves twice, just to be sure all the tear gas was gone.

  “I still can’t believe Bob tear gassed the whole bar!” We’d been laughing all morning about last night’s action. “That was classic.”

  “I’m just glad my name is finally clear,” Ulyssa declared. “And Sheila knows who the real hoochie is.”

  “And Salvo knows about Rick!”

  “I would say Rick was having a pretty lucky day. Lucky that you blew up most of Salvo’s weapons and lucky that Bob gassed Salvo before he could kill him.” This got us caught up in another round of giggles.

  “WE blew up Salvo’s weapons. It was a team effort,” I insisted. “What do you think happened after we left?”

  “I have no idea. Nitro doesn’t have a jail or psych ward big enough to hold ‘em all. Besides, our lives have been so bizarre lately, I don’t even want to venture a guess. Maybe we can get some gossip from the crew tonight at the races,” she said, sipping her blended mocha. “But we gotta get through dinner with my parents first.”

  We dozed on the couch after we finished cleaning the trailer. It was easier to sleep during the daytime with the noise from local news blaring on the television. I woke up oddly refreshed even though news bits about bedbugs, terrorists, international incidents and local homicides permeated my dreams. I stuck my arms and legs off the couch, trying to stretch the soreness out of my muscles. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in days,” I said.

  Ulyssa uncurled on the loveseat. “Yeah. Me too. I feel refreshed and ready to face Darth Guilt. It’s about that time... you want the shower first?”