Thirteen to None

by Claude Bouchard

  “He definitely did,” Leslie replied, “And you’re all going to pay for it. If you’re smart, you’ll keep on being a good boy and you won’t die for it. Stay put while I get the door for you.”

  She hurried around the Suburban and when she opened the passenger door, Smokie said, “I know you all hate us and I can’t say I blame you but I’m too young to die so, don’t worry, I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “Well, I hope you really mean that,” Leslie replied as she untied his seatbelt, “Because none of us will hesitate to kill you if you do anything remotely stupid. Now, get out and I’ll show you to your room. I hope you don’t mind sharing with some of your friends.”

  Smokie shrugged as he slid out of the truck. “You’re the boss, lady. Whatever you say goes but can I at least have my smokes back?”

  “No can do,” Leslie replied. “Those things will kill you.”

  Chapter 19 – Saturday - 7:44 p.m.

  “So, boss,” asked Shades. “Where the hell is Smokie? He couldn’t have been that far from here.”

  “I don’t goddamned know,” Butch growled, his tone displaying anger, frustration and perhaps, just a touch of fear. “Call the idiot, will you cuz, yeah, he should be back by now. He was just at the end of the lake, for Crissakes.”

  Shades nodded and ambled off into the kitchen from the dining room where Butch had assembled the three crew members remaining on the premises. A moment passed and Shades returned, shaking his head.

  “Call went right to voicemail,” he announced. “Phone’s off.”

  “You’ve been abandoned by another, Butch?” asked Dave, unable to resist. “I guess the boys aren’t as devoted to you as you’ve been trying to let on.”

  Butch turned toward Dave and smiled as he sauntered over.

  “Is that what you think, Mister Policeman?” he asked as he roughly patted Dave on the cheek. “Maybe you know more about me and my crew than I thought you did. After all, you’re a smart cop and all, a specialist in investigating shit. Why don’t you tell me what you do know about me and the boys?”

  “What I know about you is what I’ve seen since you showed up here,” Dave replied. “Which is, you’re vicious, violent criminals who take pleasure in trying to terrorize people but, as Jonathan has pointed out, you’re cowards.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Butch, nodding. “Pussy wusses with no balls and stuff. Been there, done that and it’s getting kinda old. There’s something else we talked about though and it looks like we need to talk about it again. Can you guess what it is?”

  Dave gazed at Butch and shook is head. “I don’t have a clue.”

  Butch laughed and said, “You’d think a super cop like you would have a clue. Ain’t having clues your job? Come on, Captain. Show me how smart you are.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dave replied.

  In response, Butch backhanded Dave across the face, leaving a deep, bloody gash on his cheek from a heavy ring he wore.

  “Wrong answer, buddy,” said Butch, no longer smiling. “Try again.”

  “I told you, I don’t know,” Dave replied through clenched teeth.

  “Dave, Dave, Dave,” Butch murmured, shaking his head before driving his fist into Dave’s abdomen.

  “Enough of that,” Chris barked in rage.

  Butch spun around and glared at Chris. “Shut the hell up or I’ll kick your ass. This is between me and the captain here. How many times do I have to tell you I’m in charge so you don’t tell me what to do, asshole. Now, shut up cuz I’ll kill you if I have to.”

  “Why don’t you just tell him what the hell you’re talking about?” Chris insisted, ignoring the threat. “You goddamned son of a bitch.”

  Butch stared at Chris for a moment in silence then smiled. “Okay, I’ll play along since you’re our host and all but get ready, my friend, cuz yours is coming real soon.”

  He turned back to Dave and said, “You’re either stubborn or stupid so I’ll help you out like Chris asked. You must remember when I told you not to lie to me. I’m sure you do, so when I asked you what you knew about us, you shoulda just told me instead of making me beat on you cuz I was going somewhere with it.”

  “And, where was that, Butch?” Dave gasped, still trying to get his breath back following the blow he had received.

  “I think you know a lot more about us than you let on,” said Butch. “You being a cop and all, I’m thinking you know all about me and my crew and you got the word out somehow that we’re here. That would explain why my boys keep disappearing. You’ve probably had the place surrounded for hours.”

  “That makes no sense, Butch,” Dave replied. “I’ve been taped to this damned chair since you got here. How and when could I have contacted anyone?”

  “You were down the hall somewhere when we got here,” Butch challenged. “I’m guessing that’s when you called.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Dave argued. “I didn’t even know you were here until Chris told me we had company and, once I saw you, I had no opportunity to call anyone.”

  Butch sneered and said, “Don’t start lying to me again. You know how that pisses me off.”

  “Damn it, I’m not lying,” Dave replied, his frustration obvious.

  “So, you’re telling me you had no idea who we were when we showed up?” asked Butch.

  “How the hell would I know who you are?” Dave shot back.

  “You really think you’re smart, don’t you?” Butch replied. “I’ll let you in on something. I heard you talking to your two buddies here a couple of hours ago and you seemed to know a hell of a lot about what we all did in Brighton last week. Now, how can you know all these details and tell me you ain’t never heard about us? Try explaining that to me, you stupid cop.”

  “I read a report about the home invasion in Brighton,” Dave replied, exasperated, “So, yes, I had details about what happened but the report said nothing about who was responsible because the cops down there had no leads.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Butch pushed on. “Then how the hell did you know that it was us?”

  “Because you told us, you moron,” Chris interrupted, hoping to draw the attention away from Dave.

  Butch looked at Chris blankly for a moment before asking, “When did I say that?”

  “Right after you accidentally broke all those dishes,” Chris replied, gesturing toward the wrecked buffet. “You said you liked us better than the guy in Brighton last week.”

  Butch shook his head and said, “Damn, you’re right. I did tell you but that still doesn’t explain what happened to all my guys. There must be somebody out there taking them down.”

  Chris shrugged. “I can’t help you there but isn’t it possible your guys just got bored here and got away when they had a chance?”

  “Then why don’t they answer their damned phones?” asked Butch.

  “Probably because they’re scared of you,” Chris suggested. “You are their leader, after all, and now they went against your word. They’re probably trying to figure out how to fix this with you now.”

  “Okay, then why did Smokie answer his phone and say he was coming in?” Butch challenged. “Then he doesn’t show up and his phone’s off. Explain that.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Chris replied. “I don’t even know who Smokie is.”

  “Smokie’s always stoned,” Shades interjected, his ever-present sunglasses atop his head. “Maybe he forgot to turn his phone off when he split and you reminded him to turn it off when you called.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Chris agreed.

  “Hmm, could be that,” said Butch, looking pensive. He turned to his three remaining cohorts and asked, “What do you guys think about all this crap?”

  “I don’t think there’s cops out there,” Shades replied. “If there was, they would’ve busted in here with tear-gas and shit a long time ago. Maybe the man’s right and the guys just fucked off on us.”

  “Did you hear anyone tal
king about anything like that?” Butch asked suspiciously.

  Shades shook his head. “Nope. I don’t think nobody planned it. It’s more like they got bored cuz there’s no dames here or nothing and just took off when they had a chance.”

  Butch nodded and asked, “What about you? Are you bored?”

  “We’ve done better parties than this one,” Shades admitted with a grin. “You can’t say that ain’t true.”

  “What do you think, Razor?” asked Butch.

  “I don’t want to piss you off again,” Razor replied, “But it’s pretty much what I said before, kinda like what Shades just said.”

  “Same here,” said Fingers. “This is getting kinda lame. It woulda been great with some ladies to mess with but that didn’t happen.”

  “I hear you,” Butch agreed with some reluctance. “I just don’t like it when things don’t go like I planned and this got screwed up big time. Keep an eye on these idiots while I go take a leak and think about what we should do.”

  He started moving out of the dining room then stopped, turned back and headed toward the area behind Chris. Once close enough, he swung a heavy-booted foot up, kicking Chris in the kidney through the open-backed chair, causing his captive to gasp in pain.

  “That’s for calling me a moron before, shit-head,” he said before leaving the room.

  Chapter 20 – Saturday - 7:58 p.m.

  “Damn, I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Josée grumbled, watching the iPad over Dominique’s shoulder.

  “It certainly would be helpful,” Cathy agreed.

  “It doesn’t really matter anymore,” said Leslie as she entered the sunroom with Sandy. “They’re down to four and seem to have decided to hole up inside. The sun will be going down in half an hour so it’s time to head over. We’ll be going slow and quiet so nightfall will be settling in by the time we get there.”

  “What exactly is the plan?” asked Cathy.

  “Dominique will stay here to keep up video surveillance and she’ll be live with us by phone. Thank God for Bluetooths and conference calls,” Leslie replied as she set down a case she had brought in from the dining room. “The rest of us will go over and deal with the four remaining bozos. How we do that will depend on where they are and what they’re doing when we get there. That’s the best I can come up with for now.”

  “Got it,” said Cathy. “What’s in the case?”

  “Crossbow,” Leslie replied. “I wish we had more than one but we don’t. Ideally, anyone we have to take down outside will be with this. If anyone does have to use a gun before we get inside, make it a .22 as much as possible to keep noise to a minimum. I grabbed one for each of us. That’s all I have for now. Any questions?”

  “The men downstairs can’t get out?” asked Dominique.

  Leslie shook her head. “They’re zip-tied and the door is locked. You’re safe, sweetheart.”

  “Merci,” said Dominique.

  “De rien,” Leslie replied. “Now, let’s get geared up and go put these assholes out of their misery, once and for all.”

  * * * *

  Upon returning to the dining room with a bottle of Grand Marnier in hand, Butch beckoned Razor into the kitchen and invited him to sit while he poured them each a healthy shot of the orange-flavoured liqueur.

  “I wanted to say sorry for blowing up at you outside,” said Butch as he sat, keeping his voice low. “I just lost it with all this shit going on but you were right. It’s time for us to get the hell out of here. Something’s wrong with this place and I have a feeling if we stick around much longer, we’re gonna disappear too.”

  “What do you think is going on?” asked Razor, not really having considered that his life might be at risk.

  “I don’t know if one of these guys hit a secret alarm somewhere or what,” Butch replied. “But I don’t believe seven of my crew just upped and left. Not after everything we’ve been through and done together plus everything I’ve done for them. Guys like Rat and Dibs been with me from the start and they wouldn’t fuck me over. I guess sending some of the boys out searching alone wasn’t the best idea but I didn’t know anything was wrong then.”

  “So, what should we do now?” asked Razor. “You got a plan?”

  “The four of us are going to leave together, that’s for sure,” Butch replied. “Dibs and Smokie had our trucks and my bike’s all smashed up but we’ll take one of these guys’ car cuz they won’t be needing them anyway.”

  “What about Ape and Olly?” asked Razor, thinking, “And your bike?”

  “What about all that?” Butch asked, puzzled and annoyed. “Them two are dead and my bike’s totalled.”

  “Cops is gonna show up here sooner or later, Butch,” Razor explained. “If they figure out who Ape and Olly are, that might lead them back to us. Same thing with your bike.”

  “Shit,” muttered Butch. “I’m not even thinking straight with all this crap. Okay, we’ll need to bring the bike so we’ll have to use a truck. That cop’s truck is dinged up pretty good but I think it’ll still run. Otherwise, we’ll grab one of Barry’s cars in the garage. Hell, we can dump the bike in the lake if we have to. It’s not like I can get it fixed.”

  “What about Ape and Olly?” Razor repeated. “What do we do with them?”

  Butch smiled and said, “I want us to torch this place like I did last week in Brighton. We’ll just make sure Ape and Olly are close to the heat.”

  Razor grimaced at the thought. “I guess you’re right. We can’t be driving around with a couple of stiffs.”

  “Especially in a stolen car,” Butch added. “We’re gonna have to get moving with this pretty quick. Go out and have a look at the cop’s truck. If it’s too fucked up, check what cars we can use in the garage. While you’re there, find some gas and any other shit we can use to get this place burning good. I had some gas cans in the Suburban but that’s gone so you gotta find me something.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure I want to go out there alone, Butch,” Razor replied, the fear visible in his eyes. “Everyone else that disappeared was gone somewhere alone.”

  “Aww, don’t start with that whiny crap,” Butch replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re just going out in front of the damned house and to the garage.”

  “I know, but still,” Razor argued. “If someone is out there, I might get shot or something. Look at Olly. He got run down right in the front yard.”

  “So, keep your damned eyes open,” Butch retorted. “You got a gun. If someone comes at you, use it. Don’t wuss out on me now, Razor. We need wheels to get out of here and I have to sit down with Shades and Fingers and bring them up to speed.”

  “Damn, I don’t like it,” Razor muttered. “I’m gonna get myself killed out there.”

  “No, you won’t, dammit. Just go and get it done,” Butch ordered, pushing back his chair as he stood, indicating their meeting was over. “I’ll tell Fingers what the plan is and I’ll send him out to help you in a couple of minutes. Now, get out there.”

  Chapter 21 – Saturday - 8:18 p.m.

  Depending on a number of factors including draw weight and length of power stroke, crossbows can shoot arrows, or bolts as they are generally referred to, at speeds exceeding four hundred feet per second. However, crossbows capable of delivering this velocity level tend to be bigger, heavier and more cumbersome to manipulate.

  Sacrificing some power in exchange for compactness and portability, the Panzer V which Leslie carried measured under thirty-four inches in length, weighed less than six pounds and had a power stroke of just over nine inches, yet would still launch an eighteen inch bolt at a speed of two hundred sixty feet per second.

  While they had crossed the wooded area from the neighbour’s house to the Barry home, Dominique had informed Leslie that one of the men had gone out front, first examining Dave’s SUV for several moments before heading into the open garage all while nervously trying to glance everywhere at once with gun in hand.

  Having asked the
others to wait in the woods at the edge of the property, Leslie had moved forward through the heavy growth of conifers which spanned the front of the lot until she had a clear view of the front of the garage. Through its open doors, she could see the young shaved-headed man rummaging around in the far corner beyond where Chris kept his ATVs, snowmobiles and motorcycles.

  Another minute or so went by before he emerged from the garage with two apparently full ten gallon gasoline canisters. Putting one down, he hurried along the front of the house, lugging the other with his left hand, his right still clutching his gun. Setting the canister on the walk near the front door he turned and headed back to the garage to get the second. As he returned with the other canister, he likely did not hear the snapping pop of Leslie’s crossbow which occurred a fraction of a second before the missile-like bolt drove into his left temple at approximately one hundred seventy-seven miles per hour.

  * * * *

  “Seems all quiet upstairs now,” said Smokie in the darkness of the cold room. “You think those broads are gone?”

  “How the hell should I know?” muttered Rat, “And what damned difference does it make? If they’re gone, I’m sure they’ll come back. They still might kill us and even if they don’t, I doubt they’ll just let us go. We’re screwed.”

  Smokie chuckled before replying. “I figure we’re only screwed if we stay here and whine. That’s why I think we should get the hell out of here.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?” asked Rat. “We can’t bust these damned ties, I’m buck-naked and didn’t think of hiding a blade up my ass.”

  “When the bitch frisked me, she didn’t check my bandana,” Smokie replied.

  “Holy shit,” exclaimed Rat with renewed hope.

  Not from the best of families, Smokie had grown up surrounded by relatives for whom crime was their lot in life. Of all the members of this motley crew, his uncle Spike had been his favourite and a mentor of sorts. Early on, Smokie had begun emulating Spike as best he could, the earliest example of this being the sporting of a bandana on an all but continuous basis.