Free Vengeance is Mine by Reavis Z Wortham Page B

calling the cops, though.”
    â€œWe take their car?”
    Anthony shook his head and holstered the .45. “No. That one is recognizable to Best’s men. It’s a cinch they haven’t called in yet to say they found us, and I can’t figure out how they hell they did that, but they’d take the money first, and then rat us out.”
    The room reeked of blood, gunsmoke, and released bowels. Trying not to look at the dead men, Samantha grabbed the suitcases from the corner where the gangsters had pitched them. Anthony collected all the guns, especially a drum-fed Thompson lying on the bed, and stacked them on the table by the door. He hadn’t seen one of those Chicago Pianos in years, and knew it might come in handy somewhere down the road.
    â€œWe were lucky. If one of them had gotten to that killing machine, it would have been all over but the crying.” He peeked outside. Half a dozen sleepy tourists milled uncertainly in their doorways, looking for the source of the noise.
    They were quickly running out of time.
    Anthony struggled to raise the body of the man with his arm in the safe. Holding it upright, he grabbed the thick forearm and tugged it out of the triangular hole, peeling dead skin in the process.
    With a grunt, he pitched the gangster aside, rolled up his own sleeve, and carefully reached into the safe. His thinner forearm passed easily through the opening. At first he couldn’t feel anything, making him wonder if he was wrong and they’d already cleared the safe’s contents, but then his fingers tickled the edge of a thick envelope lying in the corner. He knew it had to be money. He gripped it between his middle and index fingers, carefully drew it into the open, and stuffed it into his coat pocket.
    â€œI can’t believe this is all there was in that heavy sonofabitch.”
    Samantha had the suitcases and guns in the damaged trunk by the time Anthony rummaged through the goons’ clothes and emptied their wallets. Their cash came to more than two thousand, enough for travel money. Giving the room one last look, he hurried outside. Samantha had already slammed her door by the time he slipped behind the steering wheel.
    A siren shrieked in the distance.
    â€œWe need to go.” Anthony gave the room’s closed door one last look before pushing the clutch and shifting into first. They gunned it onto the highway and sped away from the siren.
    Moments later they came to a four-way intersection in front of the Conoco. He took the highway leading south out of town and accelerated smoothly. Once they were past the city limits, he floored it and the engine roared as they shot down the highway, using the full moon’s glow to drive headlights.
    For the next two hours they zigzagged their way across the state line into Oklahoma on a skinny two-lane road. The dry high plains air was chilly under a starry night punctuated by streaks of meteorites. They passed through dark farm towns and continued to follow tiny rural highways running east until they reached El Reno, not far from Oklahoma City. The horizon was glowing yellow when Anthony passed a closed Stripes gas station and stopped in front of a local café not far from the Owl Courts motel. There was an Open sign on the door.
    Samantha was deep asleep, curled up on the seat, her head on his leg. He gave her a little shake. “Wake up.”
    It took her a second to get oriented, then she sat upright. “Where are we?”
    â€œNot far from Oklahoma City.”
    She looked over her shoulder. “We made it?”
    â€œLooks like it. This time. Want some breakfast?”
    She rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “We aren’t very presentable after spending all night in the car.”
    He watched a farmer in overalls push the door open and go inside. “I think we’re fine.”
    â€œBreakfast sounds good. I’m hungry.”
    â€œMe too.” Anthony reached for the thick