Free Hyenas by Joe R. Lansdale

heist had to have a place to rest.
    He had an automatic pistol drawn, and he turned and shot his partner right through the head. I saw him heave something in a bag into the Ultra-light, then he started over toward Brett and Kelly, the automatic hanging from his hand. He was partially hidden by the Ultra-light. I could only get glimpses of him through the wings and the motor and the seating. He hadn’t seen me yet. He was preoccupied.
    I stopped and dropped to one knee and took my shot.
    I saw his hair lift a little, my shot was so close.
    But I missed. I NEVER FUCKING MISSED. And I had missed.
    My heart sunk.
    Smoke Stack wheeled. And when he did, Brett jumped up, and with her hands against her back, she leaped at him, hit him with a body slam and knocked him spinning backwards, his gun flying from his hand. I dropped the .22 and started running toward him. Leonard was flying through the cattle guard then, bearing down on Smoke Stack.
    Smoke Stack got up and out from under Brett who struggled to her feet and tried to jump at him again. But Smoke Stack dodged her like a quarterback on the run and leapt into the Ultra-light. I heard the motor start up and a moment later the machine was bouncing over the field. I was running on a collision course with Leonard. He slammed on the brakes and I slid over the hood and jumped in on the other side.
    “Go,” I said.
    The Ultra-light was gaining some speed. Its bounces were becoming higher. In a moment it would hop and then leap to the sky.
    But the motor on that thing wasn’t a match for a car. We were closing. As we passed Brett, who had struggled to her feet, she looked at me.
    I waved.
    The car bounced along until it was almost even with the Ultra-light. I hung myself out of the open window, eased out until I was sitting on the edge of it with my legs dangling, my arms inside, keeping me lodged. And then I eased an arm out.
    “Closer,” I said.
    Leonard did that. I cocked one foot up until it was on the window support, and I shoved off just as the Ultra-light was making its big jump.
    I hit the wing of the Ultra-light, scrambling for a grip, and my weight nodded it toward the ground. The wing hit. The propeller gnawed at the pasture. There was a sudden whirl as the sky came down and then went up again, followed by a close look at, and a hard impact with, the ground.
    I heard a noise like someone dragging a rake through gravel. It was the Ultra-light spinning in circles like a confused idiot. The money had come loose of the bag and some of it was spinning in the air and some had been caught in the propeller and chopped up. It looked like the last hurrah of a parade, the last bits of confetti thrown.
    On my feet, I saw Smoke Stack coming toward me. He was so angry he was actually foaming at the mouth. His face was scratched up.
    “Now you get your shot, buddy,” I said.
    “I’ll fucking kill you.”
    He was like a locomotive. It wasn’t like that night in his house. He was crazed with anger and maybe he had been on drugs, or most likely had just underestimated me. That happens a lot. But he was dead serious now.
    I dodged his rush and kicked out. I was trying to hit him in the solar plexus, but he instinctively crunched his body, and took the shot on his upraised forearms. The impact, the disorientation of the crash, had me off a bit, so the impact of hitting him like that knocked me down. He leaped on me like a big frog.
    I heard Leonard slam the car door and start over. But me and Smoke Stack were into it. I spread my legs and got him between them. He tried to hit me. I put up my arms. I was deflecting most of the blows, but I was taking some of it. Finally I cupped one of his arms at the elbow and swung a leg to the side of his neck. I was trying to pull him into a triangle choke, but the angle wasn’t right. He pushed my leg back so that it was being mashed across my face. It was damn uncomfortable. I used my other leg to kick at his hip, knocking him back a bit,