Free Crossroad Blues (The Nick Travers Novels) by Ace Atkins

fucking ridiculous. Too much of an effort for babbling.
    "Hell, we're almost there," Brown said, knocking the branches away.
    Then came the sound, through the imposed static of rain falling among the trees. That unmistakable sound that made Brown turn a walk into a full sprint. A human cry of pain.

    ?

    "Ain't you gonna cry or somethin', ole man? I'm gettin' tired of watchin' you breathe," Jesse said, kicking him in the ribs again. He could hear the pasty man's breathing gettin' real raspy. Like he might quit at any moment.
    Jesse pushed the cascade of black hair out of his eyes, thinking about the punk E played in King Creole . He thought about all that anger and energy E must have felt when that ole woman told him he couldn't graduate 'cause he took a swing at a guy and brought that whore to school. Must've made him real pissed off. He thought about the ole nigra tellin' him the same thing--that he had to repeat high school.
    "Ain't gonna do it, boss. No way, Daddy-O!"
    Before he wrapped his hands around the man's wrinkled neck, he felt a hot, sharp pain shoot through his calf. He fell to his knees, hands clutching his lower leg. A fork stuck in his flesh.
    The old man stood over him, lower lip trembling, and holding a can of beans in his hand. He threw it and hit Jesse right in the forehead. As the old man tried to get away, he fell onto the floor clutching his chest and howling like a hurt animal.
    Got 'im, Jesse thought. Ole son of a bitch is finally havin' a heart attack.
    He could hear his own breathing and rain splattering on the tin roof above like a million tiny drums. Through the haze of pain, Jesse almost felt comfortable in the old cabin, woodsmoke floating in the air. But that was just his mind playin' with him. Lulling him to lie down, lick his wounds, and fall asleep.
    It was time to move. Performance or not, he needed to kill the ole bastard now. Sure, it'd been a game before of doin' somethin' different, kickin' him in the ass until he fell over, but he kept hangin' on. Maybe he was havin' a heart attack, but Jesse didn't want to wait around and see what was gonna happen.
    Shit, it was time to move. His hand, covered in blood, grabbed hold of the fork and yanked it out of his leg. He threw it down and reached for the switchblade he'd brought. Nice and sharp from all the days honin' it at that crummy motel. Could probably cut a hair in two like in them funny cartoons.
    He popped the release just as the front door flew open. At first he thought it was just the storm. Then he saw a big nigra man comin' into the shack with a flashlight. The nigra seemed more into goin' to the ole man. His eyes didn't even pass Jesse's way.
    The shack's back door was a few feet from where Jesse crouched behind a ragged chair. The big nigra would see him soon enough, so in two shakes of a lamb's tail, he turned the knob and ran through the door. He hopped off the back stoop filled with trash and hightailed it back into the green, wet safety of the woods. Two shots rang out behind him.

    ?
    Nick heard the shots and saw the flash from the back of the shack. He ran to the house and knelt down when he reached the front porch. He tilted his head up and saw an old man on the floor, his skin a ghostly white in the glow of a lantern.
    "Around the side," Brown said, yelling. "On the other side."
    Who or what was on the other side, Nick didn't know. A killer? A bear? Little green men? Nick pulled the Tom Mix knife from his boot and flicked it open. He'd fillet whatever it was with a collectible.
    "You see him?" Brown yelled.
    "Nope," Nick shouted over the rain.
    Then he heard feet rustling through the undergrowth and saw a flash of skin. Nick followed. The man was fast, leaping over small trees and piles of rotting leaves and plants. He zigzagged through a trail impossible to follow without the occasional light from the full moon. Nick tried to keep an even pace, not getting too close, running when he ran, stopping when he stopped. The rain