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Sundown Town Duty Station. Meet a few of the bad guys.

4/16/2013

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Harry watched Sam Germaine fork up a mouthful of coffee cake, take a sip of coffee, and set his mug on the Formica tabletop of the diner booth. Crumbs floated on the surface of the white coffee.

“So how’d it go, Harry?”

 He looked up and saw the sweat beads dotting Sam’s forehead above his round white face. Harry wondered if it was hot in the diner, but he was too tired to try to figure it out. His head hurt, and his eyes felt like sand coated the inside of the lids. He’d been awake a long time.

“Sumpin’ go wrong, Harry?”

“It was a goat rope. Those Henley guys showed up with a ten-gauge shotgun and twelve-gauge shells. They had a stick to poke stuck shells out of the thing.”

The diner was crowded, but nobody looked at him. He lowered his voice anyway. “Chevy talked the whole damn time. Never shut up once. Jesus.”

“Did you get the mission done?”

“The mission, well, sort of.”

“You blow out that dentist’s window or not?”

“Yeah. Chevy hit it with the first barrel, but he was so excited he missed the whole damn house with the second barrel.”

“You blew out the window though?”

“Yeah. It took out the glass and the curtains. But the dumb bastards only had birdshot. Hell, I was thinking deer slugs.”

“Whatever the hell they used was okay, as long as there was the roar of a shotgun and you blew out the window. Fine job, Harry.”

“Felt like a major screwup.”

“Loosen up, Harry. Your first mission and you pulled it off. You’ll get better with each one you do.”

“I don’t want to work with those Henley boys again.”

“You gotta. We just established good connections in Meridian, and they’re part of it. This was the first time we used them too. They’ll get better.”

“You said they were twins.”

Sam laughed. “There’s a story about them boys. Just a little farther down that road where you met them last night, there’s a moonshine bar. The twins’ momma was fond of shine, and she hung out there a lot. Story is them boys was conceived right outside that bar in the backseats of the cars they was named after. Mind you don’t say anything about it though. Ford, especially, is touchy about it. He looks kind of fat and soft, but he’s strong as an ox. Word is he’s one a those don’t feel pain. Just as happy tasting his own blood as seein’ another’s. Ford’ll make a fine soldier, with the right sergeant lookin’ after ’im.”

“Chevy though. Jesus.”

“He’ll take a little more work.”

“They stink.”

Sam laughed. “Roll down a window.”    
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    John Zerr is the author of four novels, The Ensign Locker,  Sundown Town Duty Station, Noble Deeds, and The Happy Life of Preston Katt.
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