Free Stiffed by Rob Kitchin Page A

of them.  They were old.’
    ‘And what are they?’ He asks, pointing to the two mummies lying to one side.
    ‘More sheets.’
    He circles back round, keeping the gun trained on us, and approaches Marino and Junior.
    ‘It looks like two bodies to me, boys.’
    ‘I can see how they might look like that.’
    ‘You saying they ain’t?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘I thoug ht not.  It looks to me like you were dumping two bodies and burning other evidence.  For a bunch of amateurs that’s mighty intriguing.  Who are they?’
    ‘We don’t know.’
    ‘You don’t know?’  He laughs.  ‘You’re in the habit of dumping the bodies of people you don’t know?’
    ‘We found them in my house.  We thought the police might … well, you know, think we killed them.’
    ‘Let me guess, Kathy’s house?’
    I stay silent. 
    ‘Sounds like she’s been a busy girl.  First she steals a million dollars, now she’s killing folk.  I guess we’d all better go and have a little chat with Miss Kathy back at the ranch.’
    Cowboy clearly is one of Redneck’s associates.
    ‘What I want you to do boys, is put the bodies back in the van.’
    None of us move.
    ‘That wasn’t a request.  Unless you want to join them.’
    We shuffle forward.
    Paavo pulls up Junior to his feet, tips him over his shoulder and heads to the van.  I grab the shoulders of Marino and Jason lifts up his legs.  We half carry him, half drag him to the van.  We lift him up and push him in.
    ‘What’s in the boxes?’ Cowboy asks.
    I want to say junk, but settle on: ‘Stuff.’
    ‘Get it out.’
    ‘No, no,’ Jason says, arms flapping.  ‘They’re collectibles.’ 
    Cowboy chuckles.   ‘It’s junk.  Get it out and put it on the fire.’
    ‘ I’ll get it out, but I’m not putting it on the fire,’ Jason negotiates.
    ‘Fine.   Just get rid of it.’
    ‘But they’re collectibles!’
    ‘Get them out of the van, Fat Boy,’ Cowboy says tetchily, his temper fraying, ‘unless you want to be wrapped in a sheet to join your two friends there.  Fuck knows what’s in them.  I’m not having him,’ he points the gun at Paavo, ‘thinking this is an episode of the A-team, making a weapon out of whatever shit you’ve got there.’
    Reluctantly Jason pulls the boxes from the van and places them carefully to one side.
    Cowboy motions at Paavo.  ‘Now, you, get in.’
    ‘I’m the driver,’ Paavo says.
    ‘Not now, you’re not.  Get in.’
    Reluctantly Paavo steps up into the van.  Cowboy shuts the door, locking him in.
    ‘Fat Boy, you’re driving.  Red, you’re going to follow in the jeep.’
    ‘I don’t drive,’ I say.   ‘I’ll go in the back, Paavo can drive.’ 
    I really don’ t want to get behind the wheel of that SUV.  I can already feel my blood pressure rising and the edgy tingle of an emerging panic attack.
    ‘Paavo?   What kind of a stupid name is that?  No, no, you drive.  He looks like a sneaky bastard to me.’
    ‘I don’t drive,’ I repeat.
    ‘Son, everybody drives.  Just get in the fucking jeep and follow us.’
    ‘I can’t.’
    There’s a loud rattling noise as a spray of bullets clatters into the ground at my feet sending up a shower of dirt and brick dust.
    FFFUUUUU UUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK!
    HOLY SHIT!
    I think I might have more than lubricated my cheeks.  I think that might be a full nappy load.
    My heart is pumping blood like there’s no tomorrow.  If he aims that gun at me, and not the ground, there won’t be.
    ‘You were saying?’ Cowboy says laconically.
    ‘Okay, okay, I’ll drive the freaking jeep.’
    I shuffle over to the black hunk of death on wheels.  The keys are in the ignition.
    ‘Just follow us, okay,’ Cowboy says.  ‘ And don’t try anything stupid, like you did with that other fucker.  I saw that shit you did with the emergency stop.  Caused fucking mayhem.’
    Shit.  Cowboy must have been following Barry White, following us.  That’s how he found us.  He probably