Free Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One by Adam Knight

and forth. In my opinion few of
those people would let anything these punks said change their
opinion about partying at Cowboy
Shotz tonight or any night.
     
    But when the
boss puts it plainly, it ain’t really up for debate.
     
    I nodded my
head and tapped Big Mike on the shoulder. He looked back at me, and
then at Aaron. His perfectly groomed face turned grim before he
nodded as well.
     
    We stepped
forward onto the sidewalk in a two man wave, pushing the gang
members back with our presence and then physically when they
refused to move.
     
    “You just
gonna push us into the streets? You think we’re garbage?” yelled
the one closest to Danny giving a shove of his own. Danny stumbled
back off his feet. So I stepped up and pushed the Posse member hard, hurling him off
balance and into the feet of one of his friends.
     
    Another one
rushed at me, the tattooed kid. “Where’s my sister?” he bellowed
looking and pointing past me. With ease I hooked his lead arms with
one of my own, slipped a leg behind his and dropped him to the
concrete high on his back. The wind rushed clean out of him on
impact. He rolled away, gasping for breath.
     
    That’s when
things started to get hairy. All remaining gang members charged in
at myself and Mike in a rush. Given the way we were positioned it
was hard for our backup to get past us in a hurry to take some of
the brunt.
     
    Grabbing one
charging guy tight and tying him up left me open to a second guy
who threw a sloppy punch that bounced off my forehead. I heard a
crack from his knuckles and a yelp of pain as a few stars flashed
behind my eyes. The punch thrower was immediately tackled by a
recovered Danny. They disappeared out of sight.
     
    I could feel
more than see Big Mike moving to my right, occupying at least two
of the offenders with his sheer mass. Mark squeezed past me and
slammed into a fourth gang member, driving him away and off to my
left.
     
    The guy in my
arms thrashed and flailed. Trying to free himself by throwing head
butts that were inches too short and kicking at my shins and knees.
I adjusted my grip until I could grab the back of his belt. With a
lurch I heaved with my legs and back, launching the now screaming
thug into the air and driving him hard to the sidewalk. He got his
hands out to break his fall, but it wasn’t a fun one.
     
    That’s when I
saw the gun.
     
    Sound dropped
away save for the rushing in my ears.
     
    Eight feet away
from me was the young kid with the dream catcher tattoo on his
cheek. In his hands was a snub nosed revolver. I’m not a gun guy. I
don’t know makes or models or anything like that. I know pistol in
hands aimed into a crowd where the bouncers and I were brawling
with his crew.
     
    He was shouting
something. I know this ‘cause his mouth was moving and his eyes
were wild. I couldn’t hear anything. The blood in my ears was
roaring louder than ever before in my life.
     
    Somehow I was
moving towards him. I don’t remember making the decision to do so.
But there I was rushing the armed street gang member. Swiping my
big left hand at his outstretched gun.
     
    I got punched
in the chest hard.
     
    Twice.
     
    Three
times.
     
    It took me
another two steps before my legs buckled under me. Knees hitting
the sidewalk before I finally started to keel over.
     
    Faces. I saw
faces.
     
    The kid with
the gun. Shock now, mixed with fear as he stood over me. He
disappeared from sight as bodies smashed into him.
     
    Big Mike and
Mark. Kneeling over me. Yelling and shouting.
     
    Mom. Smiling.
Not sick. Making ginger snap cookies.
     
    Dad. Donald.
Dressed for softball. Waving me forward.
     

Chapter 7
     
    “Come on, Joe!”
Dad called out to me. Donald smiled, holding his aluminum bat over
his shoulder. “We’re gonna be late for the game.”
     
    I was slow,
sluggish. Couldn’t seem to get in gear. Something was hurting in my
chest.
     
    Donald laughed
at me. “What’s keeping you, little guy? We need