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I'm Not A Lucky Guy


by Tendal Braxis
PROLOGUE

 

      The minute he opened the door and let the two men in he knew he was in trouble.  It was going to be a rip off.  The two men looked like a black version of Laurel and Hardy; one tall and slender with sad eyes, the other short and chubby with a pencil thin mustache.  He mentally identified them like that; short and tall. He closed the door behind the men and told them to have a seat that he would be right back.  He was scared, not so much for himself but for his daughter.  He walked down the hall as the two men seated themselves on the chairs facing the couch and the hall that was behind and to the right of the front room.  Short to the right by the wall and window, Tall in the chair on the left near the center of the room. They were nervous; their eyes shifted around the room as Short set a metal briefcase on the low coffee table in front of the couch and turned it so the latches faced the couch.  They looked at each other and smiled as they both reached inside their jackets and made sure that their guns could be easily drawn while sitting down and waited for the man to return.  He walked to the last door in the hall and quietly opened it and softly told the girl to quickly stuff as much of her clothes as she could into her backpack and be ready to run at the first sign of trouble.  The girl looked quizzically at her father and began to do as she was told.  “What ever happens baby, Remember that I love you with all my heart.” He whispered as he silently closed the door.  The man turned around and opened the door opposite his daughter’s room and picked up a small gym bag. He reached over and picked up the Glock automatic that was lying on the top of the dresser and stuffed it into his waistband at the small of his back.  He took a deep breath and returned to the front room with a phony smile on his face.
      The man sidled into the space between the coffee table and the couch being very careful not to allow either man to see the gun at the small of his back and sat down.  He looked at the men, smiled and set the gym bag on the table and pulled open the zipper and started pulling out bag after bag of white powder and set them on the table.  As he set the last bag down, he spoke.  “There you go, 10 kilos of the purest crank in 500 miles.  Tall leaned over and took a bag at random from the pile and opened it and stuck his little finger into the powder coating it to the first knuckle and popped the finger into his mouth.  The man sucked on his finger a second and turned to his partner and grinned and nodded. He turned back to the table and began stuffing the powder filled bags back into the gym bag.
      Sweat began to bead on the mans’ forehead as he scooted over a bit on the couch and flipped the latches on the briefcase and opened it revealing stack after stack of twenties, fifties, and one hundred dollar bills. Short, sitting on the chair spoke for the first time.  “It's all there dude, fifty thousand.”  The man on the couch nodded and reached to close the briefcase as Tall stuffed the last bag of powder into the gym bag and zipped it up.  As Tall picked the bag up in his left hand, the man on the couch saw Short tense up and start to raise his right hand towards his left armpit. Now! The man’s awareness screamed at him it’s going down now!  All three men were going for their guns but the man on the couch was a split second faster.  He smoothly pulled out the Glock and snapped off two rounds at Short in the chair, the first hitting him in the chest and punching him back into the seat. The second round took Short just below the left eye; the copper jacketed round mushroomed and exited the back of Shorts’ head carrying with it Short’s brains, splattering them on the wall behind the chair.  He threw himself to the left and tried to track Tall but before he could bring the gun to bare, Tall pulled the trigger of the revolver he had pulled from his shoulder holster and hit the man in the chest, knocking the man on the couch backwards.  Reflex caused the man on the couch to pull the trigger of the Glock again and his round slammed Tall back three feet to crumple to the floor.  The lucky round had taken him squarely between the eyes and he was dead before he hit the floor.   Blood foamed out of the mouth of the man on the couch and he pressed his hand to the hole in his chest in agony.  He knew from experience that he was just minutes from death.
      When the shots rang out, the girl froze her eyes wide in terror like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming car.  She stood for a few seconds waiting, praying, and begging God to let her daddy call out to her but total silence was her answer.  Biting her lip in fear, she opened the door and peeked down the hall. Nothing. She silently stepped from the room and slipped down the hall fearful of what she would find.  As she got to the point where she could see into the front room, she screamed as her eyes took in the blood-spattered chair and the gore on the wall behind it. She screamed and saw the other body sprawled on the floor.  As her mind was trying to process the violent deaths before her, she heard a liquid bubbly cough and turned to see her father sprawled on his back on the couch, his entire chest covered in blood. “Daddy! Oh God …Daddy!” She screamed and started towards him.  The man groaned and gasped out, “No babe, stay back.” Blood bubbled from his mouth as he spoke and his breath gurgled as he gasped for air.  “Baby, I’m dying fast…*cough…gasp* grab the briefcase and your stuff and run.”  The man coughed up a gout of blood that ran down his neck.  “Go baby, get that special letter I’ve told you about from behind *gasp* the dresser drawer and get out  *gasp* get away as fast and as far as you can.”  “Daddy! Don’t die, you can’t die.”  The man’s body began to shake. “I…love…” was all he could get out as his last breath rattled from his dead body and he slumped back limp. His vacant unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling above him. “Noooo! “ the girl wailed.
      She stood there staring at her father’s lifeless body for several minutes before she finally moved.  She picked up the briefcase and turned back into the hall and went to her room and pulled the bottom drawer of her dresser completely out. Reaching behind the back of the drawer, she peeled off the taped envelope and grabbed her backpack. She returned to the front room and carefully stepped over the splashes of blood and opened the door. As she looked back into the room she sobbed and whispered, “I love you daddy.”  The girl went around the house and ducked into the woods and began to run.  She knew where she needed to go to get out of the area. The Truckstop was her obvious destination.  She fell twice as she crossed a plowed field coating her in dust. She didn’t stop running until she could see the Truckstop.  She slowed to a walk as sweat began to trickle down her face in the hot afternoon sun. When she reached the Truckstop she moved into the shade of the building, dropped the briefcase and backpack and slumped back against the wall.  She had to get away and fast.  She looked up as a car rounded the building and pulled up to the pumps and stopped.  She watched as a man got out of the car and headed inside.  Maybe she thought, just maybe she could catch a ride away from here.
 

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