Free Kill the King by Eric Samson Page B

the poor bastard’s neck. The driver let
out a gurgled scream, his blood spurting violently between his
fingers as he tried to cover the wound with his hands. Khaled used
his car to rear-end theirs and pushed it into the corner of the
parking lot. All three men were violently shaken from their seats.
The driver’s head slammed into the steering wheel, spraying blood
on the dashboard and windshield in the process. He was one less
problem for Tyler and Khaled to deal with.
    Finch
frantically scrambled to escape the car. His face and eyes were
covered in splattered blood and it made it hard for him to see
anything. Just as Finch managed to find the latch and unlock the
door, Tyler jammed the knife into his thigh. Finch squealed like a
stuck pig. Tyler twisted the blade back and forth to open a gaping
wound.
    “Where do you
think you’re going? We’re just getting started!”
    Tyler yanked
the knife out and wiped his wet blade on the kid’s silk necktie.
Finch panted and trembled in fear.
    Khaled opened
up the passenger door and helped Tyler get out of the car. He then
poked his head in and examined the chaos inside before locking eyes
with Finch. He shook his head in almost sympathetic
disapproval.
    “You brought
your friend to drive you around like this, up and down Kibera in a fancy car? Oh no. That was a big mistake, my
friend.”
    Finch hung his
head low, afraid of what was in store for him. Many big mistakes
had been made indeed, and it was too late to erase them. He
understood that Tyler wasn’t lying when he said that they were just
getting started.
    Tyler took off
his stained jacket and handed it to Khaled. “Wrap this around his
leg before you pull him out. I’ll make room in the trunk for
him.”
    “What about the
driver?”
    Tyler shrugged.
“It’s Kibera’s problem.”

    ****

    The makeshift
tourniquet had worked well enough to quell the bleeding but they
still had to cauterize the wound anyways, using a large spoon and a
lighter. Finch did not take the procedure well; he slipped in and
out of consciousness a few times during the repeated burnings. He
needed to be kept alive and lucid. Khaled had bound Finch to a
wooden chair and tied a torn piece of cloth around his mouth.
    While Khaled
busied himself with setting up the interrogation, Tyler searched
Finch’s basement apartment high and low. The furniture had been cut
up, the dirty mattress overturned, and every drawer and cabinet
emptied. When Tyler finished rummaging around he returned to the
kitchen where Khaled and Finch were waiting for him. He had a large
duffel bag slung over his shoulder and placed it on the table
adjacent to the tied-up Finch before sifting through its
contents.
    “Well, you did
a pretty good job at hiding the merch you stole from us. Let me
see. . .a few keys of coke over here, a few keys of very high grade
heroin over there, a bit of hash, some pipes and syringes, and a
shitload of meth. I think that’s everything. What do you think,
Finch?”
    Tyler plopped
the bag on Finch’s lap and prodded him to take a look inside.
Quivering, Finch looked into the bag and nodded. Khaled sighed in
disappointment and Tyler furrowed his brow.
    “No, Finch.
That’s the wrong answer. You had more than this in your possession
before we caught you. . .much more than this, I suspect. You
weren’t given that car as a gift. So. . .where’s the money?”
    Finch kept his
eyes fixed on the tile floor. “I don’t have any money. I spent it
all on the car. Please, you have to believe me. . .”
    Tyler angrily
bolted out of the kitchen and came back with a tool box. He slammed
it on the floor and pulled out a hammer. Khaled grabbed Finch’s
left hand through the restraints and held it down on the kitchen
table.
    The thumb was
the first casualty. Finch’s screams were muffled by the gag that
was jammed between his teeth. It gave his face an odd grin.
    “We don’t have
time for this shit, kid. Don’t think you can play us for fools.
Even if