Free 5 Bad Moon by Anthony Bruno Page A

arm.
    “Why, you son of a—”
    Sal snatched Emerick’s arm, but the nut leapt on him and sent him toppling back. He crashed over the coffee table and broke it, banging his head hard on the floor. Sal saw red. He was ready to break this little shitass’s nose. Then he stopped himself. He needed this guy.
    Charles ran into the room. “What happened?”
    “He’s crazy,” Sal said, getting to his feet.
    “Shit, I know that.”
    The skinny nut was running around the room, jumping on the furniture, screaming like a monkey in a cage.
    “Shut him the fuck up before someone calls the cops.”
    Charles knew how to handle nuts. He went after him, got him into a corner, and grabbed his wrist, but Emerick was wiry and he wormed his way out, screaming as he jumped up on a wooden chair.
    Sal moved in fast and tried to kick the chair out from under Emerick, but the guy dove into the air like he thought he could fly, and would’ve sailed right over Sal’s head if Sal hadn’t caught him by the ankles and tackled him to the smelly rug.
    “Gimme a hand here, Charles. I can’t hold him by myself.”
    “Wha’d I tell you? I told you he strong when he off the pills.” Charles threw his body over Emerick’s.
    Emerick screamed and struggled, got one leg free and started kicking.
    Sal took a heel in the face before he was able to grab the ankle again and hold down both legs. “Christ Almighty, together we must outweigh this guy by about four hundred pounds.”
    “I told you.”
    Emerick let out a scream like he was Ella Fitzgerald trying to break a glass. It startled Sal, and the nut broke free from his grip. Kicking his legs, Emerick was able to squirm out from under Charles’s weight and retreat to the couch. On his way he picked up a hammer from the pile of splintered wood that had been the coffee table. He must’ve used it on his decorating job.
    “You’re bad! Get away! You’re very bad!” Emerick swung wild with the hammer.
    Sal scowled. “What the hell’s he talking about?”
    “I think he remember you. He remember you killing Mistretta and that other guy. He scared.”
    “He should be.” Sal snatched up a leg from the broken coffee table on the floor. “You got the pills?”
    “Yeah. Right here.” Charles had a capsule in his palm. Sal recognized the colors—orange on one end, pink and white granules on the clear end. It was Thorazine, but this one looked a lot bigger than the ones they used to try to give him at the hospital.
    “Get away! Get away from me! You’re bad!” The guy’s eyes were frantic, like something out of a monster movie.
    Sal kept his eye on that swinging hammer. “Okay, listen to me, Charles. I’ll grab the hammer, and you pull his feet out from under him. Then we sit on him and get the pill down his throat. Okay?”
    “Okay. We can try it.” Charles moved away from Sal and positioned himself for the attack, but he didn’t sound hopeful.
    Sal watched the hammer swinging right and left, right and left. He waited for Emerick to swing left again, then he made his move. As Emerick started his backswing, Sal lunged forward and batted the nut’s hand with the coffee table leg. Emerick screamed and Sal clubbed his hand again, then grabbed the shaft of the hammer.
    Emerick’s eyes were white and his mouth was wide open. Suddenly thinking of Dracula, Sal panicked and raised the table leg over his head. The fucking freak was gonna bite him. He was just about to bash Emerick’s brains out when the vampire vanished. Charles had pulled the rug out from under him, and Emerick was on his back on the couch, flashing the whites of his eyes.
    “You’re bad!” Emerick shrieked. “You want to kill me! You’re bad!”
    Sal dropped his knee to Emerick’s chest and slapped the nut’s clawing hands away as he worked the wooden hammer shaft into his mouth. Emerick bit it like a mad dog.
    Sal was breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face. He’d almost bashed Emerick’s head in. Christ